To Be A Ventrue
by SandraSmit19
Summary: Rhoslyn Forbes was an ordinary woman with an ordinary life, until she met an extraordinary man. Now a newly-made fledgling, she has to make her way through the treachery and danger of the vampire world.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Right, so, this story has been lying dormant for years. I've had most of it written for years as well, but I've never gotten round to posting it. Today, this will change. See here the first chapter of my very first Vampire – The Masquerade story. I've loved this game since forever and I'm really excited to be posting in a different category once again. The first chapter reads quite a bit like the game. This wasn't my intention but it just worked out that way, plus I love Jack too much to leave this part out. It becomes more of a story after the first chapter.

Disclaimer: I own nothing except for Rhoslyn, and perhaps a few minor characters. Most others belong to Troika Games and the designers of this fine game.

**_Chapter 1: _**

The night that changed Rhoslyn's life forever, the night that by all rights should be etched into her memory, never to be forgotten again, was in reality rather vague. Most of the things she remembered were blurry and unfocused, not to mention very confusing. She didn't like it but there was nothing she could do. What she did remember was what had led up to the very sketchy night.

She had met Andrew Monmouth, the man she'd been with that night, a month before when she had been mugged on her way home. He had caught the thief and returned her purse to her, after which he had offered to walk her home.

She didn't know what had possessed her to invite him in when she'd only just met him, but she had. She didn't make a habit of inviting perfect strangers into her house but there was something about him, an intriguing quality that had made it impossible to ignore him. And so, she hadn't ignored him.

They had met up every day for the entire month - always at night, he was busy during the day, he said - sometimes eating in a restaurant, sometimes staying at her flat. Not once did he try to take advantage of her. Not once did he make her feel uncomfortable. He was everything anyone could want in a man. Sweet, handsome, charming, and, although it mattered little to her, financially well-off.

The night that changed everything came after they had met up at a restaurant. They had had dinner and had then gone back to her flat. He had been so gentle, so sweet, she had been unable to resist him. They had made love and…that was where the clear recollections stopped. She remembered pain, and she had shouted for help at some point, but that was all she remembered before consciousness left her.

When consciousness returned, the first thing she became aware of was discomfort. It took several moments for it to register that the discomfort was caused by the fact that she was on her knees. She went to shift into a different position and found that she couldn't.

Was she paralyzed? No, she could still feel her limbs, it was faint and she noticed with a start that her arms were tied behind her back, but she could feel them. So why couldn't she move? Then she heard voices, voices that had obviously been talking for a while since the main voice, a man, was halfway through a story.

She heard him say something about forgiving him. Who was he talking about? She heard a whoosh and a thump. A wrenching sensation ripped through her chest and for the first time she could make a sound, though not a very loud one.

She gasped and moments passed during which she could hear nothing but the blood rushing through her head. When her hearing returned, she heard someone - another man - cry out that it was bull-shit. Who was it? What was bull-shit? She couldn't see, she couldn't move. She could only just hear and what she heard made no sense. Frustration bubbled up inside her.

_'What is going on?' _she yelled in her head. _'Where's Andrew? Who are these people?'_

Awareness floated away again and when it returned once more, she found her arms were no longer tied behind her back and she could move again. She stood up gingerly. She felt no real pain, though her body was aching slightly and she felt weak.

She looked around and came face to face with a man. Before she could even wonder who he was, he spoke up and she heard that he was the man she had heard earlier, the first one.

"Your sire, tragic, my apologies. But you see, there's a strict code of conduct that we must adhere to, if we wish to survive. When someone," the man said, starting to walk away from her, leaving her no choice but to follow him. "anyone, breaks these laws, they undermine the well worn fabric of our centuries old society. Understand my…predicament."

She stared at the back of the man's head as she followed him, not noticing her surroundings at all.

"Allowing you to live makes me directly responsible for your subsequent behaviour. So, what I'm offering is not generosity, but an opportunity to transcend the fate woven by your sire. This is your trial," he said before stopping in front of a door. "You will be brought to Santa Monica, there you will meet an agent by the name of Mercurio. He will provide the details of your labor. I've shown you great clemency, prove it was more than a wasted gesture, fledgling, don't come back until you do. Good evening."

Next thing she knew, she was standing outside, scared, angry, and very confused. _'Sire? Letting me live?' _she thought wildly. _'Are they the mafia? But why would he call me a fledgling?'_

She clutched her tote bag to her chest, not that there was a lot in it. Her wallet was empty, except for pictures of her family, and her only other possessions were some make-up, some tissues and a can of pepperspray. She had bought the latter shortly after she'd been mugged. Andrew had been there that one time but she knew he wouldn't always be. She had sworn to herself that the next person to try to mug her would get a face full of pepperspray.

As she stood there trying to regain her bearings, she suddenly became aware that underneath the aching and the weariness, she felt different. She wasn't bigger physically, but she _felt _bigger. She felt powerful, despite the shaking of her legs. She studied her body and found that her fingers were longer, her arms thinner than they had been, but stronger somehow.

Even more confused than before, she stepped out of the small alcove and onto the small back alley street only to be greeted by loud, raucous laughter.

"What a scene, man! Hoowee!" a jovial voice said as she whirled around, coming face to face with a man. "Then they just plop you out here like a naked baby in the woods. How 'bout that?" He sighed. "Look, kiddo, this is probably a lot for you to take in, so uh, why don't let me show you the ropes. Whattaya say?"

Rhoslyn was wide-eyed as she looked at the man in front of her. He looked dangerous, almost feral, but his words were friendly.

"Who are you?" she asked.

"I'm Jack. What's important is I'm offering help. You make it back from Santa Monica with your hide and we'll trade life-stories, okay? 'Till then, I got about this much time. You in or out?"

All she could do was nod.

"Alright. Now, we ain't got much time but I figure _somebody_ should fill you in on the bare bones stuff at least. You know, could save your hide…" Jack paused and looked at her. "You look wobbly. You even had a drink yet?"

She frowned. "I don't drink alcohol."

She was surprised to see a grin appear on Jack's face. "Oh man – we're popping a cherry here!" he laughed. "Ah, you're gonna love this! Alright, check it out. Blood, it's your new rack'a lamb, your new champagne. Blood's your new fucking heroin, kid. Get ready though, cuz, hey, it's never as sweet as the first time."

Rhoslyn barely heard him. Her mind had stuttered to a halt at the word 'blood'.

"Bl…blood?" she stammered.

Jack nodded, watching her closely. She felt the world grow dimmer around her. When full consciousness returned a few seconds later, Jack was lowering her to the ground, sitting her down on a crate placed against the wall. She thought she heard him mutter 'damn you, LaCroix', but she couldn't be sure. She couldn't be sure of anything except that he had said that she would need to drink blood. She looked at Jack and saw that his expression was patient and understanding. She wanted to scream, to yell at him, to call him a liar, but she knew - sensed - that it was true. She was a…

"What am I?" she whispered.

She listened as Jack explained what she was, what her beloved Andrew her turned her into, what had happened to Andrew and what would have happened to her had a man called Nines not spoken up, and felt as though she was in a trance.

When Jack was done, she took a deep breath, only now becoming aware of the gnawing hunger inside of her, and with a resigned look on her face asked him, "What do I do?"

"Come on," Jack said, helping her to her feet.

He led her to an alley and together they looked in.

"Do you see him?" Jack asked softly.

She looked to the end of the alley and saw a man looking around, obviously looking for something.

"Poor S.O.B can't find his car," Jack sniggered. "He'll be providing you with what you need."

"So…what do I…I mean…uh…" she stammered.

"You go down there – casual like – creep on him, then bare those little fangs…" Jack said, gently flicking one of her now elongated eyeteeth. "…and feed. Don't worry if you weren't the captain of the wrestling team or something, cause it'll come so natural you'll think you'd done it a thousand times already."

"Won't…won't he become a vampire then?" she asked, feeling a bit silly for asking. She didn't remember how she had been turned but it probably didn't work that way.

Jack was quick to confirm that she was worrying over nothing as he laughed and said, "Forget that comic book crap, kid. It don't work that way. Now go for it, be sure though – and this is important, so listen up – be sure not to drain 'm dry, okay? It might be hard to resist, but don't kill 'm."

"I don't have to kill to survive?" she asked, surprised but indescribably relieved. "Thank goodness."

Jack gave her an amused look before he nudged her and gestured for her to go ahead. She slowly crept forward, her eyes wide as she approached her hapless target. The hunger was now a heavy weight that rested in the pit of her stomach.

She crept up behind the man and when she felt she was ready, grabbed him, sinking her teeth into his neck. The man struggled but she barely felt it. She drank hungrily, forcing herself to let him go when she felt him weaken. She walked away from the man in a daze, leaving him still on his feet though in a trance-like state. She felt powerful, reborn, ready to take on anything.

She exited the alley, her eyes immediately searching for Jack. She might feel as though she could take on anything but she didn't think she could handle being left alone at that point. She was relieved when she saw him standing next to a door, close to where they had been before.

She approached him and he turned to her, an almost proud glint in his eyes as he surveyed her and said, "Yeah…ah yeah…Hell yeah, you're feeling it. I can see it in your eyes…you're a born-again predator. Feeling that blood bubblin' inside you, lifting you up. That's it, kid, that's what it's all about right there."

Rhoslyn felt giddy as she said, "I don't know how I feel about drinking blood, but it does feel good."

Jack nodded in acknowledgement before saying, "Alright now. You've got the blood, you're feeling all kickass, feeling better than your best day livin' – but wait! It gets better! All Kindred…Kindred, that's uh, our word for vampire…all Kindred have a few things in common, things that set them right square above humans on the foodchain."

"Like what?" she asked, still feeling very light on her feet.

"Like sharper senses, a body that can take a beating, and, if you play your cards right, eternal life. That's no sure bet, but still, a chance at immortality is not a bad deal. And that's just for starters. Fringe benefits for joinin' the club."

"So," Rhoslyn began, feeling more and more excited about the whole thing. "I'm going to live forever?"

"Well, you can still be destroyed, but forget the books and movies. Garlic? Worthless. A cross. Pfft. Shove it right up their ass," Jack said, laughing at that. "A stake? Only if it catches you in the heart, and then it only paralyzes you." She unconsciously rubbed her chest at the mention of stakes. Jack continued, "Running water. It's no problem. I bathe…occasionally."

At that a smile appeared on Rhoslyn's face and Jack was glad. The kid needed to smile, now more than ever. She had been thrust into a terrible situation and, with the exception of what little help he could offer, she was on her own.

He once again continued, "Now, a shotgun blast to the head: That's trouble. Fire? That's real trouble. Sunlight? Well, you catch a sunrise and it's all over, kiddo, get it?"

She swallowed hard and nodded, her face serious as she said, "Got it."

Jack was sad to see the smile go but he knew she needed to know about the cons of vampire life as well.

"Okay now," he said before he was cut off by a loud explosion. He bared his fans, hissing in agitation. "What the fuck's this?"

Gunfire roared in the night, mixing with the squealing of tires. Rhoslyn wildly looked around. She said nothing as she turned to Jack but he could see she was terrified. All levity was gone now that she was reminded of what the cold harsh reality was, and she wasn't anywhere near ready for it.

"Look," Jack said. "You get inside here and head upstairs. We'll meet up in a bit. I'm just gonna go see what the ruckus is."

She nodded, not hesitating to open the door and step inside, letting the door close behind her. She found herself inside what appeared to be a garage. Jack had said 'head upstairs' and as she looked around she realized that a large stack of boxes were her only way there. She approached them determinedly, if she could drink blood, she could climb a bunch of boxes.

She made her way up, nearly falling twice - and she felt sure that if she had still been human she would have fallen - and made her way across the catwalk. She turned the corner, finding herself face to face with Jack once more. She had no time to wonder how he had gotten there before her, because he immediately turned to her.

"Come down here," he whispered urgently. "Stay away from the windows."

She did as she was told and Jack shook his head, letting out an annoyed sigh. "It's a Sabbat raid. The Sabbat, they're uh…ah Christ, I was hoping to spare you this shit 'til later. The Sabbat…well, they're mostly mindless, bloodthirsty assholes, that's all you need to know for now, alright?"

"What's going on?" she asked, thinking the name 'Sabbat' sounded bad, very bad.

"The Sabbat got wind of the gathering here, so they figure they'd raise a little hell and put heat on the new 'prince'," Jack explained.

"What's the prince a prince of?" Rhoslyn asked frowning.

"No time for the political rundown. Job one? Get out of here alive. Sabbat might be mindless but they hit like a Mack truck, like raging savages…nothing a fledging like you wants to mess with."

She quickly nodded in agreement. She definitely didn't want to mess with that. "What do I do?"

Jack suddenly shushed her. "Heads up. Back away."

They both turned to the window, watching as three characters who were apparently the Sabbat, came face to face with a huge figure of a man. The Sabbat members laughed, mocking the hulking vampire. One of the two armed Sabbat members fired his weapon into the air before both gun-men turned their weapons on their opponent.

The bullets had no effects whatsoever and the huge man summoned two ghostly wolves, who came down on the two armed vampires. The remaining vampire saw it happen and he darted away from his fallen mates, towards the giant. He was felled by what appeared to be a swarm of insects.

As if sensing eyes on him, the giant looked up and locked eyes with Rhoslyn. She would have taken a step back if she had been able to but as it was, she was nailed to the floor. Fortunately, the giant didn't take any further interest in her and he turned and walked away. Rhoslyn let out a breath she hadn't even known she was holding as Jack turned to her again.

"Dumb frenzied Sabbat bastards," he said. "Alright. We gotta vamoose out the back quick. I'll stay and keep a watch out; you take this lockpick and get us into the office. Door's around the corner here."

Rhoslyn wanted to protest. How was she going to get them in? She had never picked a lock in her life. But Jack slipped a lockpick into her hand and gave her a gentle push in the direction of the door, a push that spoke volumes. There was no choice.

"Right," she muttered as she approached the door. "I'll just pick the lock then, shall I?"

She kneeled down in front of the door and started fiddling with the lock. Much to her relief, it opened after only a few minutes. She stepped in, hearing glass break and Jack snigger. When she turned the corner, she found that Jack was already inside.

"Uhh…shortcut," he said, gesturing at the broken window. "Well, nicely done though. Not exactly an angel in life, were you?"

An unfamiliar feeling of anger welled up inside of her and Jack could see it in her eyes. It quickly died down again and he sincerely hoped that it would come back. She would need a temper if she was going to survive.

"Now, if you want a lesson on how really not to act, take notes from those Sabbat assholes. You're a big, bad vampire…yeah, great, congrats…now keep it to yourself. You go roar and you beat your chest and that's what you can expect."

"I wasn't planning on letting anyone know what I am," she assured him. And she meant it.

"Good, cuz it ain't appreciated. You don't let humans know you're a vampire for the same reason you don't let humans see you feeding. For the same reason a wolf doesn't let the sheep know he's there. That's also why you didn't know any of this stuff when you woke up this morning."

Rhoslyn nodded, she understood.

"Keep our secret secret and you make things easier on all of us," Jack continued. "We're living in the age of cellphone cameras…fuckups ain't tolerated. Makes sense enough, right? Well, it ain't a casual thing for a fledging like you."

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"That party back there – with the guy in the suit and the Magilla Gorilla?" Jack said. She must have looked confused, because Jack clarified, "The assholes that put your sire to death?"

She nodded bitterly.

"That's the Camarilla."

She repeated the word to herself. Camarilla. The Camarilla had killed her Andrew.

"Hmph," Jack scoffed. "They make a tidy business out of enforcing 'vampire laws' like this one."

"I see," was all Rhoslyn managed to say.

"Alright. Now, don't worry cuz I know the area a little – and you know what? I'm glad we're in this situation, you and I. It illustrates a point…you gotta utilize your surroundings."

"How so?" she asked.

"You do what you gotta do," Jack shrugged. "Theft, destruction of property, breaking and entering. Heh. These'll be the least of your sins before the night is out. So look around here. We gotta get out the back there, through that magnetically sealed door. Must be a key somplace…"

Rhoslyn nodded, already looking around. The office they were in was relatively big and consisted of a sofa that had seen better days, a filing cabinet, a safe and two desks, one of which bore a computer. She checked the computer but found that it was protected by a pass-word, a password she found on a note hanging on the wall in between the safe and the computer.

_'How convenient,' _she thought as she entered chopshop as the password.

She used the computer to open the safe and inside she found the keycard she needed.

"There we go," Jack said when he saw she had the keycard. "Now take that keycard and head out the back. I'll meet you out in the alley there. I'm gonna go check out things from top side."

She nodded and headed for the back door. She stepped out after using the card and walked down the stairs, at the bottom of which was another door. She cautiously went through. She obviously wasn't cautious enough and before she could react she felt several bullets slam into her. She cried out in agony and slumped against the wall.

She watched in a daze as Jack came out of nowhere and disposed of the two Sabbat vampires. Rhoslyn gingerly stood up straight, finding that it already didn't hurt as much as before, though it still hurt. She slowly made her way to where Jack was standing.

"Fuckin' waste of unlife these Sabbat vatos," Jack spat as she got closer. "You get winged, sweetheart?"

She nodded and showed him the bullet holes. Her very first.

"Hey hey! Look at them potholes!" Jack grinned. "Those'll close up soon enough. Better feed though." He sniffed the air. "There's someone down the stairs there. Not the freshest catch but he'll do."

"Isn't all blood the same?" she asked, watching in fascination as her body's healing process pushing the bullets out and they fell to the ground.

"When it comes to feeding…it's quality blood you're looking for, not the quantity. Bums and lowlifes don't pack the same punch that a healthy well-bred human will. Juicebags with a pedigree: that's the good stuff. But you gotta take what you can get. Remember what the guy looking for his car tasted like? That's what you need to look for."

Rhoslyn shivered at the memory, that had been good. Jack smiled before continuing, "Remember what I said though; don't kill them. Least not the innocent ones. You're a monster now, make no mistake…one of the damned and the fallen. You need to hold on to every last shred of humanity you have."

"What if I lose control? What then?" Rhoslyn asked, shuddering at the thought.

"An innocent's an innocent," Jack shrugged. "You kill one, even a worthless bum, even by accident, and it's gonna cost you a piece of your own humanity, bring you closer to the Beast you got welling up inside you."

"The 'Beast'?" she questioned, frowning.

"That's right, kid. The Beast. It's always there, it's waiting to take over. When it does, it's like a wild animal wearin' your skin…desperate, scared, reckless. He'll do anything to survive and it's you who has to deal with the consequences."

"Right," Rhoslyn said. "Well, I'm not planning on ever killing anyone, so I guess it doesn't matter."

"Now kid, that ain't the right attitude. Sooner or later, you're going to be forced into a situation where you'll have no choice but to kill. Kill or be killed and all that kind of stuff. If some asshole levels a twelve gauge your way, you drain him, skin him and bash in his skull. Self-preservation is a vital part of humanity after all. My favorite part, in fact." He laughed.

Rhoslyn smiled and nodded. "Okay," she said.

"The only way to fight the Beast is to keep in touch with your humanity, and don't go hungry. It's a fine line."

"Got it," she said.

"Alright, now go feed," he said, gesturing to the stairs leading down. "Careful, though…he's gonna drain fast."

She nodded and turned to the stairs. She crept down in what she hoped was a stealthy way. She had never tried sneaking on stairs before and it was rather tricky, her dress kept getting in the way and her shoes weren't very practical. She made it to the bottom and crept up on the bum. She grabbed him and sunk her teeth into his neck.

She took a long, deep drink and let go immediately. Stumbling back, she heaved and choked, trying desperately to keep the blood in but it was no use. It had to come out. She vomited violently for several moments, the blood splattering onto the ground.

She felt arms supporting her and she was momentarily alarmed until she heard Jack's voice murmuring, "Alright. Come on." He helped her climb the stairs and leaned her against the wall.

She had to fight down the nausea before she was able to embarassedly choke out, "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," Jack said, waving off her apology. "I had forgotten that you're a Ventrue. I should have known that some blood just wouldn't agree with you." He studied her for a moment before saying, "I guess I don't need to ask you if you could feed on rats."

Rhoslyn's stomach turned again and she had to swallow hard to keep from vomiting again.

Jack laughed, though not cruelly, and said, "Didn't think so. That's okay. _Polite_ Kindred society looks down on that kind of thing anyway."

"I think I know why," she said, her stomach now under control.

She got up straight and took a deep breath.

Jack suddenly turned serious. "Keep it down. Got someone around the way here."

"Just one?" she asked, hoping the answer was yes.

Jack nodded. "Not too much of a threat by himself, but you never know if there's more within shouting range. You're gonna have to sneak past."

"Sneak where?" she asked.

"The building across from us, with the garage door?" Jack asked. She nodded and he continued, "There's some double doors on the far side. I'll meet you inside. Just stay low and stick to the shadows. And don't let him see you."

Rhoslyn nodded, staring at the garage for a long moment until Jack nudged her. "Go."

She stepped through the chainlink fence, all but crawled her way to several crates and hid behind them. She peeked around the corner and saw a light-haired, long-armed Sabbat member standing there with what appeared to be a tire-iron in his hand. He moved away and Rhoslyn used the opportunity to sneak forward to a number of larger crates, ducking out of sight just as the vampire came walking back.

She then carefully sneaked her way around the corner of the building and quickly stepped through the double doors. Jack was already inside.

"Keep it quiet, they're inside here. Seems that shovelhead outside just got separated from his pack. He's wounded too. You go take care of him."

"Me?" she questioned in disbelief.

"You gotta learn at some point, kid. No time like the present," Jack said. "Don't worry…he's probably greener than you."

"Probably?" she protested as Jack pushed her out the door and into plain view.

The Sabbat vampire headed straight for her and to Rhoslyn, he didn't look green at all. She just barely avoided the first swing of his tire-iron, catching the second swing on her arm. She reached for his head and clawed and tore without thinking about it. He dissolved in her hands and she took several deep breaths.

_'Guess he really was green,' _she thought as she picked up the tire-iron and made her way back to Jack.

She found Jack standing next to another door.

"That's that," Jack nodded, having seen her kill him. "Sounds like we've got another pack moving in though. The Sabbat're going all out. You better head underground, avoid stray bullets."

"Sounds like a good plan," she quickly agreed.

"Alright," Jack said. "Head down into the basement through the grate in there. Keep that tire-iron handy. I'll be there in a minute."

She did as she was told, awkwardly clutching the tire-iron as she made her way down the ladder. At the bottom she opened the door and came into a small hallway, at the end of which was another door. She entered that one and just barely managed to duck out of view when the vampire inside looked behind him.

Not seeing anything out of the ordinary, he turned away again. Rhoslyn silently laid the tire-iron down on the floor and crept up behind him. She would need to do this quickly and correctly. She grabbed his head and neck and twisted as hard she could, his neck snapping easily, his body disintegrating in her hands.

She stood there in a daze for a moment, staring at her own hands in disbelief. _'Such strength,' _she thought before realizing that sounded ridiculously conceited. Jack's voice coming from behind her snapped her out of her stupor.

"Not sure what's goin' on," he said, looking up. "Sounds like the Sabbat is getting scattered. I'm gonna keep an ear to the ground. Be careful goin' forward here…could be a whole mess of 'em holed up."

"Just my luck," she muttered, retrieving her tire-iron.

Jack left and Rhoslyn moved on. The door was locked and after fiddling with the lock for a moment, she knew she wouldn't be able to pick it. _'I wonder,' _she mused before she reached for the discipline that Jack had called 'Blood Buff' in his explanation. 'Greater dexterity, stamina and strength' he had said.

She tried the lock again and this time it opened quite easily. She entered the next room and saw that there was a guard in there. Now that she had gotten a taste of what she could do as a vampire, she wanted to try all her disciplines.

She reached for 'Fortitude' and moved forward to engage the enemy, her tire-iron in hand. She was surprised once more at how easy it was to kill as a vampire. She watched him dissolve at her feet and was pleased when she still felt disdain at having to kill. That meant she wasn't getting lost in her new powers.

Once again Jack's voice came from behind. "I think they're clearing out. No need go stirring up the hornet's nest til we know the score though. Head through here…you'll come to an elevator around the way. Meet ya there, and don't let 'em catch ya."

She nodded and walked into the next room. She found herself standing behind several large boxes. She peered around the corner and saw that there were two guards in there. She reached for her 'Presence' discipline, hoping that she would be able to scare one of them sufficiently for her to be able to fight them one at a time.

She activated the discipline and walked in, both vampires immediately turning on her. Her discipline didn't seem to be doing anything as they both attacked at the same time, seemingly not deterred at all. _'Didn't it work?' _she thought wildly, avoiding their strikes.

She killed one of them just as the other hit her across the back. She turned to him and finally her Presence discipline paid off. It completely threw him off and for a few moment's caused him to turn the other way, allowing her enough time to kill him.

She stepped into the next room, still shaking from the battle. _'Don't overestimate yourself,' _she thought. _'That's the lesson to be learned here, Rhos, don't think you're invincible.'_

She again found herself standing behind large boxes. She glanced around the corner and saw that once again, there were two guards there. Not wanting another fight, she decided to try something else.

She crouched down and crept forward, ignoring the slight twitching of her back. She used Dominate on both vampires, having to concentrate hard before being able to do it the second time. She entered the next room and again found a guard in there.

She still didn't want another fight, but this one was blocking the door so Dominate would do her no good. She moved forward, her foot striking something and she had to duck really low for a moment to avoid being seen. When she was sure she hadn't been discovered, she looked down to see what her foot had hit.

Seeing what it was, a can, she was hit by an idea. One well-aimed throw and one sneak later, she was standing in a hallway, Jack already waiting for her. He laughed as she approached him.

"Fucking humans. Gangbangers. 'Protecting their turf'. Ah man, I'm here thinking it's Sabbat moving in up here…it's the fuckin' locals taking one for the hood."

"So what do we do?" Rhoslyn asked.

"They probably seen too much. Here…take this thirtyeight. Fucking' peashooter, but a few shots and it'll take down a human." Rhoslyn must have looked distressed because he said, "Don't worry, kid. They ain't innocents. Not by a long shot. Robbery, rape, murder, you name it, they've done it."

She nodded slowly and took the gun. "Thanks."

"Well," Jack began, obviously aiming for levity. "I'm gonna want it back, so don't go die and lose it."

Rhoslyn smiled wryly and nodded.

Jack continued, "I don't use guns much. They're noisy, they're clumsy, practically useless against vampires. But still, a Kindred's gotta keep up with the times and in modern day Los Angeles, that means coming strapped."

"Useless against vampires?" she asked.

"Well, some are more lethal than others, of course. Watch out for those shotguns. Those things smart, I tell ya," Jack said. "Head up and clear out what's left of 'em. Can't have them running their mouths about any of this. I'm gonna make sure there's no stragglers around outside."

"Okay." She turned the corner, the tire-iron half-stuffed in her bag and the gun in her hand. She boarded the elevator and got off on the second floor. She took out both humans with the gun, the costly shooting lessons she had taken when she was sixteen finally paying off. She wasn't a great marksman but she got the job done. She picked up the baseball bat from one of them and the thirtyeight of the other before walking back to the elevator where Jack was already waiting for her.

"That's it, kiddo. Just like that and it's all over," he said. "Everyone slinks back to their corners of the city for the night."

"That's it? It's all over?" she asked, handing him his thirtyeight back, stuffing the other one in her bag.

"'Til the next night, when the Camarilla finds some way to strike back. Parry, dodge, spin n'all that. And so on and so on…"

"So this is perfectly normal?" she asked in disbelief.

"Well, to be honest, you came along at an…interesting time. The Camarilla and the Sabbat…in L.A these are the new kids on the block. There's already plenty'a Kindred had stakes down in California long before them. Now we got every ancient Kindred rivalry playing out all over the city. Lotta tension over there. Lotta fear. Lotta jittery, high strung predators clinging to their little pieces of eternity."

She nodded thoughtfully. The sounding of a carhorn outside made Jack look up. He grunted. "Oh boy, I think they're looking for you outside. Guess you got a cab to catch. Was hoping to fill you in on a little more but…hell, you'll figure it out. If you make it back, stop in at the Last Round. It's this bar downtown here. I'll fill ya in on the politics." Jack chuckled at that. "Now that's the stuff that'll kill ya." He laughed before sobering and giving her shoulder an affectionate squeeze. "Good luck, kiddo."

"See ya, Jack," she whispered, watching him go.


	2. Chapter 2

**_Chapter 2: _**

Rhoslyn had been dropped off at what the cab driver explained to be a Camarilla safehouse. It was a dump really, not much more than a bedsit. She hadn't cared though. All she had cared about was the shower. She really, really needed one. When she stepped out, she felt refreshed, though putting her smelly clothes back on made it practically pointless. She sighed as she looked down at her sorry excuse for a dress.

_'In tatters,' _she thought, fingering the holes in the fabric on her stomach. _'Story of my life.'_

The wounds that had caused the holes were long gone though. All her wounds were. Jack hadn't been kidding, vampires healed really fast.

Thinking of Jack made her smile. She liked the man, as much as she could like someone she had only just met. There was a dangerous air about him, yet he carried it with no arrogance. He had a good sense of humor, an intelligence that had to be seen to be believed and a kindness in him that was at odds with being a vampire. He had taught her what she needed to know about being a vampire and, though she knew there was much more to learn, it would have to do. At least she knew she had to keep a low profile and there was no need to kill anybody. She was glad, she wasn't a killer.

She stepped out of the tiny bathroom and looked around the room. A small kitchen with a radio on the counter - after about ten seconds of 'Deb', she had turned it off - a filthy bed, which she had no intention of ever touching, a tv, and most importantly, a laptop.

Next to the laptop was a note and a card. The note was from the agent she was supposed to meet. He informed her of the password to the laptop and of the 100 dollars in the drawer. The card was less clear. A riddle from The Regent. Who in the world was the Regent? Why had she been invited to visit him at his downtown home? The riddle was meant to lead her to his home.

_'Dark blood, our curse, a light this verse._

_Such power I sense in one so young._

_Come find me where burns the mystical sun.'_

She didn't know what it meant so she shrugged and tucked the card into her bag. Maybe it would make sense once she was downtown. She stopped when she realized she was assuming she would make it that far. She hoped she would but assuming it could be dangerous.

She looked through her emails. A reminder from LaCroix. Two advertisements. An email from Mercurio. And a mysterious email from 'a friend' who told her 'the game begins. A pawn is moved', whatever that meant. She deleted the two advertising emails. She wasn't interested in Arthur Kilpatrick's Krime-Puter and she most certainly didn't need a penis enlargement.

She had already taken the 100 dollars from the desk drawer and the three bloodpacks from the fridge. She had found a watch in the bathroom, as well as a bottle of estrogen pills. She put the watch on her wrist, bitterly musing that it might be handy to know when the sun would come up, and put the pills in her bag. She would be leaving the tire-iron and baseball bat behind, as they would be too conspicuous, but slipped the gun into her bag. She picked up her bag from its place on the chair next to the tv and looked around one more time before slipping out the door.

* * *

Rhoslyn stepped out the door, letting it shut behind her, all the while contemplating the headline on the paper she had found in the hallway. _'Carnival of Death: Gruesome remains found on the pier. Police baffled' _it had read. She knew it wasn't her business, she also knew she didn't need even more on her plate, but maybe she could go and take a look. It couldn't hurt.

It was raining slightly and she hunched her shoulders. She couldn't feel the cold but she could feel the wetness. It made her dress even more uncomfortable.

She looked up and down the alley she was now standing in, her eyes stopping on what was a classic example of a bum. He wore tattered clothes and reeked badly. She paused. She supposed she shouldn't point fingers, she was hardly any better at the moment.

The bum had apparently seen her as well, because he stepped forward and addressed her.

"Hey, hey lady, you got some change, lady?" he asked, slurring his words somewhat before taking a swig of his bottle.

Rhoslyn reached into her bag, bringing out her wallet and pulling out a dollar. It was all she could afford to give. "Here," she said, giving it to the man. "It's not much, but…"

The bum didn't seem to care that it wasn't much as he took the dollar. "That's very nice, thank you," he said before moving away.

She watched him go with sympathetic eyes, hoping he'd be okay. As she watched the bum, she suddenly became aware of a terrible feeling. Hunger. She looked down at her stomach. She needed to feed. She looked at the bum again but quickly turned away with a shudder. She wasn't going to try that again.

She emerged from the alley into a fairly normal looking street. There was a tattoo parlor and a clinic across the street, a pawn shop to her left and an apartment building to the right, and _there_ was something that wasn't normal.

There was an obviously very injured man crawling up the steps into the building. She frowned. Was that building where Mercurio lived? She hoped not. She looked around and saw that the busstop had a map. She went to go over to it but stopped mid-step and hunched over, the gnawing feeling of hunger turning into a full-blown ache. She _had_ to feed. She became aware of someone standing next to her.

"Are you quite alright, miss?"

She looked up and found herself looking into the handsome, if pretentious-looking, face of a man. His hand was under her elbow, gallantly steadying her as she straightened somewhat. He smelled good. Rich and full of flavor. She looked into his eyes and gave him her best smile.

She was pleased to see a blush creep above the man's collar and she felt confident enough to lean a little closer to him and say, "Need a little company?" The man's eyes turned vacant and he said, "I've suddenly got the urge to walk down that dark and foreboding alley over there. Care to join me?"

Rhoslyn followed the man into the alley, only just withstanding the urge to hurry him by pushing him. She was breathing heavily by the time they got there and she went straight for his neck. He moaned as she latched on and drank deeply and hungrily.

She finally pulled away, slowly letting him go. She blushed when she realized she had been rubbing up against him, but she hadn't been able to help it. The blood had tasted so good. She left him standing there after making sure he was alright and once again made her way down the alley, feeling much better and very much thankful that the bum had gone elsewhere and hadn't seen her feed.

After checking the map she confirmed that it was in fact Mercurio's apartment building the injured man had crawled into. She headed for the building and entered, hoping Mercurio wasn't the one who was injured. Following the trail of blood, however, led her to Mercurio's apartment, number 4. She pushed the door open, finding herself staring into a fairly luxurious apartment.

_'Certainly better than that dump they gave me,' _she thought before she shook her head at herself.

Listen to her, she had lived in squalor her whole life, had never known any better – except for her brief time with Andrew, but it hurt to think about him – but now that she was a vampire, she suddenly had an attitude. She stepped in, having already seen the ruined form of a man lying on the sofa. She looked down with a frown.

_'So this is Mercurio?' _she thought. _'Looks like somebody got the best of him.'_

She put a hand on his shoulder and shook him lightly. A pained moan came from his lips as he slightly lifted himself from the couch, turning his wrecked face towards her.

"Those mothers…ripped me off…I'm dying here," he gasped out.

Rhoslyn searched for words for a moment before she asked the only thing she could think of. "Are you Mercurio?"

"Uhn…yeah. You're looking for the Astrolite? I'm uhn…ah, I can feel a draft on my fuckin' insides! They shanked me – the bastards! The blood ain't workin' no more, my head…it feels cracked…think my eye's popped."

"You want me to call an ambulance?" Rhoslyn asked, already heading for the phone.

"What? No! I got a record back East. I'm heat bait. Don't touch that phone! No goddamn cops!" Mercurio said firmly.

"You look really bad, are you sure?" she asked, her hand on the phone.

"No cops!" he repeated, almost yelling this time.

"Okay," she soothed, returning to where he was laying. "What happened to you?"

"I got…I went…what the hell is this lump?" he cried, looking at his side. "Is it my rib? Holy shit, is my rib poking through my side? I'm all numb…you gotta look and tell me."

Rhoslyn did and winced on his behalf.

"It's your rib alright. What happened?" she asked again.

"Goddamn chemist. You can't trust any operators in L.A. I verified him, organization seemed reliable. Guy mixes up speed, his crew sells it. Occasionally does explosives. I set up a drop. I show up at the beach with the money, right? Four of these guys, they come out of nowhere. Junkie pricks, hit me with a bat. Feels like I got a freaking horse kicking it. Those cocksuckers – beat me rotten and left me for a stiff. Had to crawl to my car, crawl my ass up here. The vamp blood's the only thing keeping me together, but shit, they got the money, they got the Astrolite," Mercurio miserably trailed off.

"Where are they now?" she asked, helping him turn onto his back.

"Those small-time sons of bitches live out in a dump at the beach," Mercurio choked out, groaning as he tried to settle a little bit. "Four or five of 'em. The one's got the explosives is Dennis. Got my money too, that prick."

"The beach," Rhoslyn repeated. "Right, how do I get there?"

"Laying in a pool of my own blood and you want friggin' directions?" Mercurio asked.

Her eyes widened a little and he reneged with a sigh.

"Right, okay – down the street, in the parking garage, stairs down to the beach…on the right…those better not be some of my last words."

"Anything else?" Rhoslyn asked, making a note of the parking garage bit. There were sure to be signs there that would help her find other places as well.

"You gotta…gotta get it back from 'em," Mercurio ground out. "Maybe reason with 'em, maybe break in…I wanna kill 'em. Do whatever you people do. I blew it, I know."

Rhoslyn watched sympathetically as his body seemed to be overcome by pain for a moment.

"Is there anything I can do for you?" she asked.

"If you could…unhhh…ah, something just started leaking – I need something for the pain."

She looked at Mercurio's side and saw that something had indeed started leaking. She winced again.

"I'll bring something back for you," she promised.

"Unh…one more thing. About the deal…I mean it…you tell anyone about this and I'm dead. I'm begging you. I got a way of getting people what they need. You don't say anything and I can help you out."

"Don't worry so much. I won't say anything to anyone. Try to relax, I'll go get you something," she said. "I'll be right back."

* * *

Rhoslyn pursed her lips as she made her way across the street, the rain seeping through her dress was making it cling to her like a second skin. The clinic was bound to have some painkillers. She felt sorry for the man, he had been betrayed and beaten. She didn't think he deserved it.

She headed for the door to the clinic when she was accosted by someone.

"Ah man, you – you're a vampire, aren't you?" he asked, looking at her with interest.

Rhoslyn looked at the rather enthusiastic young man and frowned. Wasn't this the sort of thing she was supposed to avoid? She was certain that it was.

"Whatever you think you know, just forget it, okay?" she said, hoping he would just say yes.

No such luck. "Hey, I work for a vampire," he said, sounding a little defensive. "I don't know how much I should tell you, but damn, it would be awesome to talk to someone else 'on the inside', know what I mean?" He laughed somewhat nervously.

Rhoslyn nodded with a slight smile. She liked this guy.

"Yeah," she finally said. "I might just know what you mean."

"Hell yeah," the young man cried. "Ah man, I knew it. I just, ah geez, I just knew you were. I just could tell. Ah man, this is great. Then I saw your teeth and I was like 'Damn'. It was like I could just sense you. The name's Knox Harrington. Pleasure to meet you."

Rhoslyn smiled and shook her head in amusement.

"I'm Rhoslyn," she said, letting him shake her hand exuberantly. Then she frowned. "Are you a vampire? How do you know all of this?"

"I'm a ghoul," Knox said by way of explanation. "I didn't know about any of this stuff until a couple of months ago when this guy just appeared and all of a sudden, bam! Ah man. Vampires are real and right there in front of my eyes. Blew my goddamn mind."

"A ghoul?" Rhoslyn said softly. "What's a ghoul?"

"Well, the way it was explained to me, whenever a vampire let's a human drink some of their vampire blood the human gains a little vampire power. Can heal up quick and that kinda stuff. Geez, ah man. Then they're a ghoul. Whoo, watch out."

Rhoslyn grinned at his behaviour. She was liking him more and more.

"You seem to enjoy it," she said.

"It's awesome," Knox enthused. "Man, after that first taste of vampire blood, it's like the best drug, ah man. I'm telling you. Only it didn't mess me up, just made me feel better at everything. I felt like a god, just sucking on that nasty dude's wrist."

"So what are you doing around here?" Rhoslyn asked.

"Well, look, I probably shouldn't tell you this, but I'm on a 'secret mission' for my master. Well, hey, it's been great talking to you, girl, but I better be going, you know, important stuff to do."

"See ya, Knox," Rhoslyn nodded, feeling guilty that she had spent so much time chatting while Mercurio was in pain. _'I better get going.'_

She walked into the clinic, approaching the receptionist. Before Rhoslyn could say anything, however, the receptionist said an obviously oft repeated sentence. "Please, wait your turn and you'll be seen."

"I'm here to work on the network upstairs," Rhoslyn improvised.

"Nobody told me to expect any technicians," the receptionist said with a frown.

"Call whoever it is in charge – I don't care, I get paid by the minute," Rhoslyn shrugged, gently exerting her will over the receptionist.

"Fine, whatever. Here's the key for the second floor. Stairs are down the hall. Tell the guard upstairs you're here to work on the network."

"Thanks, I will," Rhoslyn said, accepting the key.

She walked into the back, frowning slightly as she looked back, she hadn't expected that to actually work. She shrugged and turned back, heading for the first door she saw. Room 1. As good a place to start as any. She opened the door and stepped in.

Inside was a whimpering, red-haired woman, bleeding profusely. She appeared to be in quite a bit of pain. Rhoslyn stared down at the suffering woman for several long moments. What was it about this city that left people hurt and betrayed left and right?

She made an attempt to shrug carelessly, she wasn't a doctor, what could she do? She went to leave when the woman groaned in pain again, and Rhoslyn stopped. She turned back and frowned thoughtfully. Vampiric blood had healing properties, surely it couldn't hurt to feed the woman some of her blood?

She stepped forward before she could answer her own question and did it before she could change her mind. She stepped back, watching in amazement as the woman seemed to be recovering already.

_'That's fast,' _she thought as the woman raised her head.

"Are you alright?" Rhoslyn asked.

"You – who – who are you? What did you do? What did you do to me?" the woman asked.

_'I turned you into a ghoul,' _Rhoslyn thought grimly, but said, "Nothing…I'm just a nurse."

"No – No, you did something," the woman insisted. "I can feel it…it's…fixing me. You – I kissed your wrist. What did you do?"

"Look," Rhoslyn said, getting rather antsy. "Forget about this. And don't say anything. You'll be fine."

"You – I feel like I know you," the woman said, not seeming to have heard Rhoslyn at all. "Like you've always been here."

"I really must be going now," Rhoslyn said, ignoring the woman's outstretched hand.

And before the woman could say anything else, Rhoslyn stepped out and closed the door behind her. It was alright, she had saved the woman's life, and now she would walk away. So why did she feel as if she had just made a mistake? She shook the feeling off and moved on.

Ahead was a door with a sign that said 'stairs', so she went left instead, coming to Room 3.

_'What in the world?' _she thought. _'Where's Room 2?'_

She shrugged and opened the door. Inside, a black man with dreadlocks, doctor Malcolm according to his name tag, turned away from his patient to address her.

"I'm sorry, miss," he said. "But you're going to have to wait outside like everyone else. No exceptions."

"Sure," Rhoslyn said, stepping out and closing the door.

She moved on. She came to Room 2 and frowned again. _'Strange lay-out'_ She stepped in only to find that this room was even less helpful than the other one had been. There was nothing there. She stepped out and turned left around the corner, finding herself in the administration room.

There was a computer on the desk and she quickly checked the emails after hacking into it. There were three of them, and one of them indicated that there might be some morphine in doctor Malcolm's office.

She stepped out again and walked further down the hall. She ignored Room 4, it was doctor Malcolm's office she wanted. The door was locked and one Blood Buff and some fiddling later, she was in. She picked up the three bottles of morphine from the desk - she was certain they had plenty of morphine in the hospital for them to be okay without these - and then sat at the computer.

She would have to be quick to make sure she didn't get caught. She hacked into it and read the emails.

"Oh dear," she murmured. It would appear that doctor Malcolm had been very naughty. Best leave it be.

She left the room quietly and nearly walked into Malcolm himself. He had an enraged look on his face.

"What were you doing in my office?"

Rhoslyn's eyes widened. She'd been caught. Then she remembered her Dominate discipline and she sighed in relief.

"You will forget that you saw me," she ordered. "Your door is unlocked because you forgot to lock it."

Malcolm's eyes became vacant for a second and he said, "Why did I do that? Anyone could just go in."

Rhoslyn slipped away while doctor Malcolm was still berating himself. 'need to be more careful' she heard him mutter to himself as she made her way back to the hospital exit. She felt only slightly guilty for doing that but reasoned that she couldn't have him reporting her to the police and blackmailing him was no sure bet.

* * *

Humming under her breath, Rhoslyn made her way to the beach. Mercurio had been rather grateful for the morphine and she could understand that. He had to be in an awful lot of pain. She made her way through the parking garage and followed the signs that said 'Beach Access'. She heard voices discussing the murder at the pier. She briefly wondered what they were talking about before she remembered.

_'Carnival of Death'_ the paper had read.

She had been planning to go and see and she had forgotten all about it. Though the picture in the paper had been enough to make her slightly queasy, she still felt a morbid fascination._ 'Might as well go look.'_

She walked down the stairs, distractedly listening to the voices speaking of horrors they had seen on the job. _'It made you lose your faith in humanity,'_ one of them said.

Rhoslyn smiled wryly. Humanity. If there was one thing she didn't have anymore, it was humanity. Of course, she mused after a moment as she stepped down the stairs, that wasn't entirely true. She had given a bum a dollar. She had fed a dying girl some of her blood and saved her life. _'And turned her into a ghoul,' _she thought, but she quickly shook that thought off. And finally, she had given a suffering man relief. But was all that being human or just plain being soft?

She made her way through the hall that apparently led to the beach. She hoped it did anyway, she knew nothing of Santa Monica, and she was sure she could easily get lost. Then she heard the seagulls and waves banging the shore in the distance and knew she was going the right way.

She came out of the hallway and was suddenly on the beach, so suddenly she almost lost her footing. There was no warning whatsoever, just bam! You're on the beach. She was so caught up in the change from stone to beach that she didn't see the woman running up to her until she was right in front of her. The woman looked slightly nervous about something.

"Up there," the woman said, sounding as nervous as she looked. "Through that chainlink gate and up those stairs."

"What?" Rhoslyn asked, taken off guard.

"Those men you're looking for," the woman explained.

"How did you know I was looking for someone?" Rhoslyn asked suspiciously.

"Never mind, you wouldn't understand," the woman said, shaking her head.

"Right," Rhoslyn nodded slowly. "Thanks, miss…"

"Rosa," the woman said softly.

"I'm Rhoslyn," she said, extending her hand.

The woman shook her hand, nodding as if she had already known that. Rhoslyn moved on, glancing back at the strange woman, who now seemed to be lost in thought, staring into the distance. Up ahead she saw more people, three men.

One of them stuttered and didn't really have anything to say. Another seemed to think they were in some kind of movie, where the head vampire needed to be slain for everyone to turn back to normal. She quickly disabused him of that notion. _'The sooner he accepts what he is, the better.'_

She then came across a man that went by the name of E. E had quite an interesting story to tell. A story about his lady love, Lily, who was a vampire and turned him into one as well. He was apparently what one called a 'thin-blood' and Rhoslyn promised to investigate the matter for him, starting at the diner. It was the least she could do for a guy stuck at the beach, hiding from the other 'full-blood' vampires.

* * *

Rhoslyn arrived at the beach house and saw that Mercurio was right, it was a dump. He was also right about them being small-time sons of bitches. The 'guard' outside wasn't even guarding the place. He was smoking, his back turned to her.

She knew she could knock him out and he'd never know what hit him. But inside there were more men, men who probably had guns. She didn't fancy the idea of getting shot…again. She decided talking would have to do. She cleared her throat and the man turned around.

"Help ya?" he asked, his cigarette dangling from his fingers.

Rhoslyn saw the vacant look on the man's face and knew that smooth-talking would go straight over his head. A different tactic was needed.

"Do I look dangerous to you?" she breathed. "I'm sure a big man like you isn't scared of me. Why don't you let me in?"

As if on cue, the man's eyes fixed on her breasts. "I'll tell you what," he said, a sly smile coming to his face. "I'll let you in. If on your way out you want to work out a little fair trade for future purchases, you come see me. I'm Brian."

"I'll think about that, Brian," she said as she passed him. "See ya."

She walked off, knowing that his eyes were on her backside. Before she had become a vampire that would have bothered her. She had never been all prim and proper, but she had had the kind of morals that disallowed her to flirt with anyone.

Now that she was a vampire, it was extremely easy, and for some reason that didn't bother her much. Perhaps her morals had been left behind when the life had been sucked out of her. Andrew must have… She shook her head. There she went again, thinking about Andrew. _'Stop that,' _she thought angrily. _'You have more important things to think about.'_

She entered the house through the front door, passing one of the other men, who all but ignored her. He probably thought that since she had managed to pass Brian, she was supposed to be there. The door straight ahead was locked so she went the long way around.

She saw a computer but walked on. Curiosity really could kill the cat in a place like this. She entered what appeared to be some kind of laundry room. She walked to the door and went to open it when something tickled at her senses. Something about the grate in the room.

On a whim she opened the grate and kneeled down. She peered in and found an envelope containing 250 dollars. Mercurio's money? Probably. She slipped it into her bag and headed for the door again.

"Yeah," the black man - Dennis - inside said as she entered. "That is what I love about this business. Fine women come to my house for my shit. I don't gotta call them on the phone or nothing. Say there, pretty lady, what can I hook you up with tonight?"

"What have you got?" she said, once again turning to flirt-mode.

"My staff maintains at all times a twenty-four carat smorgasbord of A+ narcotics guaranteed to make the competition's shit look like a weak cappucino in comparison. White, green, blues, reds, black – pick a color."

"I'm looking for something a little different," she said. "Do you have explosives?"

"Explosives? Fun stuff," he said, raising his eyebrows at her. "You can get yourself a lot of attention that way. I may have something. Why would you need to get your hands on some fireworks?"

"I'm going fishing," she said nonchalantly.

"Sure, okay, I've got some stuff here that'll do the trick. Astrolite," he said, almost reverently. "It's like TNT's bigger, meaner cousin with a prison record. I don't like to keep the stuff around – too dangerous – so I'll let you have it for a little less than the going rate."

"Anything else you take besides cash?" Rhoslyn purred.

"Mm hm," Dennis smirked. "I'd be open to negotiations. Question is – how open are you?"

"Want to send your buddy out of the room and find out?" she asked.

"Yo, go check the odometer on my car," he barked at his friend. When the man was gone, he turned to Rhoslyn and said, "Now, I'll give you what you want…but I got what you need."

"Let me show you a new trick I picked up," Rhoslyn said in a low voice.

Dennis melted into her arms and she quickly latched onto his neck. She drank deeply from him, only just barely keeping it in. The quality of his blood left a great deal to be desired. She left him standing there, dazed and smiling inanely. She carefully picked up the Astrolite and slipped it into her bag, which was getting rather full. She slipped out the front door again and walked back to the gate.

"Bye, Brian," she breathed, running a finger down his muscular chest.

She heard him chuckle arrogantly behind her.

"Yeah, she wants me," she heard him say.

She rolled her eyes and made her way down the ladder. As she crossed the beach, she passed Rosa again. She heard her mutter something like 'You're going to China.' She appeared to be in a trance.

"I'm sorry, what?" Rhoslyn asked.

"Why is he smiling? The father? Is it the father behind him?" Rosa murmured.

Father? What was she talking about? Rhoslyn's father had died when she was little.

"What are you saying?" Rhoslyn asked.

Was this woman a psychic? If she was, maybe she could give her some useful advice.

"You…you chased it for the one at the top of the city," Rosa was saying. "On the sea…underground…you found it in the crypt…" Rosa gasped, before continuing, "It's open…it's open…oh, oh God, run."

"The one at the top of the city?" Rhoslyn said. "LaCroix? I chased something for LaCroix?"

At that, Rosa seemed to snap out of her trance, laughing nervously and somewhat embarassedly.

"I sorry. Sometimes I see…nothing – disregard what I say," she said.

"You have a gift. Please, it's very important," Rhoslyn said softly but with feeling. "Can you tell me more?"

"One hand moves the pieces of the game – the winner keeps his hand on the pawn," Rosa said.

"Can you be more specific?" Rhoslyn pushed.

"I don't know what I saying. Forget what I say," Rosa said again.

"Can you tell me my fortune? I'll pay you," Rhoslyn said, blurting the last bit out.

"Fortune is not your destiny. All of us are unfortunate. Everytime I sleep the future plays out before me. I know the ending. It will end over and over until I cease to dream. I know your questions. For one hundred dollars I'll tell you what you don't want to hear. I need money to leave this place."

"One hundred dollars?" Rhoslyn repeated. She only had 99. "I can give you 20 dollars."

Rosa looked at Rhoslyn for a long moment before nodding. Rhoslyn gave her the money.

"What's going to happen to me in the next few nights?" Rhoslyn asked.

"The crimson ship…he's not who he says she is…and he's going to burn…dinosaurs?…He's furious…the man with the crest…the voice in the darkness, boss…Chinese brothers…follow the lights to the end of the tunnel…where do you want to go?" Rosa said, her eyes glazing over as she saw what Rhoslyn could not.

"Who can I trust?" Rhoslyn all but whispered, looking at the woman in front of her.

"Hm…the man on the couch…the lone wolf…all others – tread carefully."

_'The man on the couch?' _Rhoslyn thought. _'That has to be Mercurio. The Lone Wolf…that's a puzzler.'_

"Who are my enemies?" Rhoslyn asked, almost afraid of the answer.

"Many. Everywhere. Some with swords. Some with smiles. But I pity them," Rosa said, looking at Rhoslyn. "You are a remarkable foe."

Rhoslyn nodded slowly, her tense muscles not willing to relax. Many enemies, and they were everywhere.

"Any life saving advice?" she asked, only half-joking.

"Don't open it," Rosa said emphatically. She sounded scared and angry at the same time.

"Thank you," Rhoslyn said when it became clear that was all Rosa would say.

Rosa walked away, still half in a trance and Rhoslyn was much the same as she watched Rosa go. After standing there for a long moment, she made her way up to the Santa Monica Pier. She saw the murder victim still hanging there, and saw the cops standing around but besides the fact that it was obviously a brutal murder, managed to find out nothing. She shuddered at the sight of the body, she didn't think she'd ever get used to seeing something like that. Or at least, she hoped she wouldn't.

She made her way back to Mercurio's apartment, still pondering Rosa's words. She told the still injured man that she had the Astrolite, gave him his money back, and asked him what had to be done next.

"You need to make some place disappear, a warehouse. Looks to be a Sabbat interest," Mercurio said.

"How do I find this warehouse?" Rhoslyn asked.

"There's a guy. I never met him but I heard a lot about him. His name is Tung. Bertram Tung. He's one of you types. If there's anyone who knows more about this city, it's him. Unfortunately, Tung's hiding out at the moment."

"What? Why?" Rhoslyn frowned.

"Tung's laying low because of Therese – Voerman, you know her? Anyway, word is Therese and Tung are fueding – I don't know the details. My take's that Tung think's he's about to get whacked, so he's gone underground 'til Therese calls it off. If you want to put that warehouse into orbit anytime soon, you're going to have to get Therese to call off the fued."

"Where can I find her?" Rhoslyn asked.

"She and her sister – Jeanette – run the Asylum. Some freaky customers frequent that place," Mercurio said. "I try not to do business there."

Rhoslyn nodded thoughtfully. "I guess I'll go see her."

She stepped out of Mercurio's apartment once more. So she had to get someone called Therese to call off a fued with someone called Bertram. _'Great,' _she thought. _'More detours.'_

As she stood there, she realized that the Astrolite felt heavier than it really should. She knew why. She was worried about it. What if it exploded while she still had it? Even Dennis had said it was dangerous. She decided she would leave it in her haven. She made her way back to her shabby apartment and placed the liquid explosives in the shower cabin. Surely it would be okay there.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Okay, so in an effort to add more description to the story, I tried to play the game. Turns out it doesn't work. Maybe my computer isn't compatible (I'm on XP Home Edition), maybe it's something else, I don't know. I'm completely frustrated as I love the game and it throws a wrench in my plans for this story. I do have the option of playing the game at my cousin's house but that's only once a week and only for a few hours. Nevertheless, I'm going to try my best. Here goes nothing.

**_Chapter 3: _**

The Asylum was rather hard to miss. Upon leaving the parking garage, Rhoslyn could see the place to the left, the name in yellow and orange Neon letters blazing out for everyone to see. Rhoslyn had never been a club going kind of person and so had next to no experience when it came to clubs but she was pretty sure anyone would call this particular one 'loud'. Walking into the club was like walking into a wall of noise, not painful but very nearly so.

Rhoslyn cautiously stepped out of the small 'lobby' and into the actual club, not expecting any sort of attack but not quite sure what she _was_ expecting. The scantily clad woman who addressed her the second she came in was most certainly not it.

"What do we have here?" the woman purred. "Another scrumptious young play thing, straight out of life and into my club? You smell new, little girl, like fabric softener dew on freshly mowed astro turf. I'm not frightening you, am I, duckling?"

Rhoslyn found herself speechless for several moments. No woman had ever spoken to her like that before. Come to think of it, no man had ever spoken to her like that either. When she saw the smirk on Jeanette's face, she realized the woman was baiting her, but she was in no mood to return the favor. The flirting she had done earlier had left a bad taste in her mouth and she didn't want to do it again. Besides, the hint of sharp teeth told Rhoslyn all she needed to know about what this woman was and she wasn't entirely sure that flirting would even work. _'I'm only a fledgling, after all'._

"Who are you?" Rhoslyn simply said to the woman.

"I'm the finger down your spine when all the lights are out. I'm the name on all the men's room walls. When I pout, the whole world tries to make me smile. And everyone always wants to know, who…is…that girl?"

Rhoslyn frowned at those words, not sure what to make of this woman. "What is your name though?"

"I…am…Jeanette. And this bit of chaos crammed in a certifiable giggle is my club. Oh, I'd just love to give you funny feelings all night, sweetheart, but I really must trouble with some business. We'll reunite sweet and soon, I promise."

Not waiting for any kind of answer, Jeanette walked off. Rhoslyn stepped forward and watched the vampire dressed as a schoolgirl step into what appeared to be an elevator. Being a newly made vampire, her experiences were limited but that qualified as the weirdest exchange she had had so far. Weirder even then the exchange with Rosa, and that particular conversation was still niggling at her. What had the woman meant by 'don't open it' and why had she sounded so urgent?

Rhoslyn shook the thoughts of with some difficulty. There was a time and a place for such things and this wasn't it. She had a Therese Voerman to find. She looked around for a moment before spotting the bartender, who had already seen her.

"What can I get you, beautiful?" he asked as she approached him.

If Rhoslyn had been able to, she would have blushed. She would never get used to being called beautiful so freely. She once again couldn't bear to flirt so she decided to be direct and to the point. The burly, tattooed man looked like he would appreciate it. "I'm looking for Therese. Where can I find her?"

"Therese? She's upstairs. She said she had business to attend to, but I can hear her and Jeanette bickering from here. Why do you need to see her?" The last was said suspiciously.

"I need to talk to her," Rhoslyn said simply.

"Yeah, yeah," the big man said, rolling his eyes as he crossed his arms over his barrel-like chest. "I hear that from everyone, sweetheart. She expecting you or something?"

"No, but she'll like what I've got to say," Rhoslyn ventured, her voice brusque.

The bartender was silent for a moment and Rhoslyn felt a little irritation set in. She didn't have time for this. She wanted to find Therese Voerman, do what she needed to do and be done with all of this. She didn't want to be a vampire but if she had to be – and she knew she did – she wanted to do it on her own terms, not Lacroix's. If she could make it back to Los Angeles, she could find Jack. Surely he would be able to help her.

After another moment, the bartender nodded and said, "I'll cut you a break because we're busy here. I'll buzz Therese, tell her you're coming. Take the elevator over there up. But if I hear that you're not supposed to be there, you and me are going to have a little heart to heart, you hear me?"

Rhoslyn nodded in acknowledgement. His threats didn't matter. Therese _would_ want to see her. She stepped into the same elevator she had seen Jeanette take earlier and went up. When she exited the elevator, she came into a small hall. She could hear what appeared to be the last part of an argument between two women in the room next door.

There was stomping of feet and the slamming of a door, before Therese called out, "That's it, Jeanette, run away from the truth. I'll take care of everything, as always."

Rhoslyn stepped towards the door, cautiously opening it and stepping in. Sparsely furnished but gaudy all the same was what came to mind when she looked around. There was a table with a computer on it, a screen with a bed behind it and on the wall a huge portrait of two sad looking girls she assumed were the two Voerman sisters, standing in front of an ominous looking man. _'Their father, perhaps?'_

"Please, come in," Therese greeted when she spotted Rhoslyn, giving no indication that she was riled up whatsoever. "I do apologize for my sister's crassness if it made you uncomfortable. She's unabashedly scandalous – but in the club business, I suppose that kind of personality's a necessary evil."

Rhoslyn nodded slightly but didn't comment. She wasn't there to speak about Jeanette and she wouldn't have known what to say about her in any case. "You are Therese?"

"Therese Voerman, yes," the woman said as they shook hands. "I'm the proprietor of this club and the only person in this city whose good side it's in your best interest to stay on. What brings you to Santa Monica?"

Rhoslyn briefly considered telling Therese that she thought Jeanette owned the club, but then thought better of it. She didn't look as though she'd appreciate it. She decided to just come out with it.

"I need you to call off the feud with Bertram Tung."

"Tung's exile is self-imposed, I assure you," Therese was quick to say. "But then, what reason would I have not to hate that loathsome Nosferatu scoundrel. Bloody Nosferatu. They're so…unclean."

"Why do you hate him?" Rhoslyn asked.

"He meddles in my affairs," Therese all but spat. "He's a bad influence on my sister, and she on him. If you were in my place, would you let him compromise your authority? You most certainly would not. I'd quite like it if I never had to hear that name again."

"Then can you put out the word that you've got no feud with him?" Rhoslyn asked, wondering if it could be that easy.

"Why would I do that? Let him think that I mean to kill him – that way, I don't have to worry about him sabotaging everything. Do you realize how his subterfuge makes me look to the Camarilla?"

Rhoslyn was surprised to feel a snarl bubbling up inside of her. So the woman was a Camarilla. The same Camarilla that had executed Andrew. The same Camarilla that would have executed her simply for existing.

"That's…unfortunate," she managed to force out. "But I really need to see him."

"Tung and his co-conspirators actions ruined my chance at partnership in a crucial piece of property. I do have several other promising ventures, and one in particular has been, to say the least, an ordeal." Therese paused for a moment, as if considering something. "I would be willing to put the word out that my grievances with Tung have been swept under the rug, but in return, you'll have to help me removed a particularly burdensome spirit from a property I'm looking to invest in."

Rhoslyn closed her eyes. More chores for Camarilla sympathizers. More chances to get killed at the whim of people who didn't even know her. It couldn't get any worse than this, could it?

"What would you have me do?" she asked, trying not to glare.

"Rumor is that a personal item of a ghost may be used to draw it out or excise it from its haunt. While I don't put a lot of stock in hearsay, it's my last option. So I want you to go to the Ocean House Hotel, find an item of the spirit and bring it back."

"And I can be sure that you'll call of the feud with Tung afterwards?"

"Of course. You'll find that dealing with me on the whole is appreciably more predictable than dealing with some of the egomaniacs that are my peers. So long as our business doesn't go sour, my word is gold."

"Very well, I'll be back soon," Rhoslyn said.

"Before I forget, take this." Therese handed her a key. "The only way to reach the Ocean House this time of night is through a tunnel in the sewers. You'll need that key to open the gate for that tunnel."

Rhoslyn stared at Therese in dismay for a second. Perhaps she had been a bit too hasty in thinking things couldn't get any worse. She had never been in a sewer in her life and, irrationally, she pictured meeting the Ninja Turtles. She shook it off. Now was not the time to fall apart.

Therese didn't appear to notice her preoccupation. "If you'll excuse me, I've got situations to set straight," she said, dismissing Rhoslyn by turning away.

"I'm sure you do," Rhoslyn muttered as she walked out the door.

She stuffed the key into her bag, swearing under her breath as the elevator made its way down. Like things weren't bad enough already, she now had to trudge through the sewers and deal with a ghost. She exited the elevator, nearly flattening two patrons of the club. She apologized automatically, as she would have when she was alive, but she barely looked at the two humans as she passed them.

As she went to leave the club, she was hailed by a familiar figure.

"Hey, girl," Knox Harrington enthused when he saw her.

"Hey, Knox," Rhoslyn returned, a small smile appearing on her face, her bad mood lifting a little. "What's up?"

"Not much. I'm just waiting around for my master," he said, sounding strangely nervous.

"Who is your master?" she asked absently, just making conversation.

"Ah man. His name is Bertram Tung. He's a Nosferatu," Knox said, his enthusiasm returning a little.

Rhoslyn stared at Knox in disbelief for a moment before composing herself. "No kidding? Small world, I'm looking for him."

"Man, I wish I knew where he was. I'm getting antsy waiting around for him. I need to tell him some stuff. But I dunno where he is or stays, or anything. Whenever he needs me, he just…appears."

"What did you need to tell him?"

"Ah man. Well, Bertram had me keeping an eye on this guy, this Asian dude, who's been poking around Santa Monica. Bertram thought he might be a vampire or…something like a vampire, I dunno."

"So what's the problem?"

"Ah man, this guy…this thing…got wise to me. Now instead of me watching him, he's watching me. Then he'll, like, warp up next to me, ah man, then disappear."

Rhoslyn frowned. His words sounded true enough but why was he so nervous? And why wouldn't he look her in the eye? Her friend wasn't telling the whole truth and nothing but the truth.

"Is there something you're not telling me?" she asked softly.

Knox played at being offended. "What are you saying?"

"Look, Knox," Rhoslyn sighed, running a tired hand over her face. Vampire she may be but she was exhausted and it was only her first night. "Tell me the truth, and I might be able to help you."

"Ok, ok, ok, dammit Knox. Damn, alright, look, I messed up, ok? I'm just doing as I was told though-" he rambled, before taking a deep breath and continuing, "Bertram knew you were coming. Knew you'd come by here. He planted me and told me what to say about the Asian vamp, but it's true, I swear. And everything else is true too. This Asian guy needs to be taken out – I can't do it, so Bertram needs you to."

Rhoslyn folded her arms and decided to play tough, even though she already knew she'd help him. "I don't know. Why would I do you a favor after this?"

The ghoul's face fell and his shoulders slumped. "Because it's true. This thing is here and it's bad news for all of us. Bertram says there could be an army of them show up any day unless we show them we mean business."

Rhoslyn hesitated for a moment longer. She didn't know what she was getting into and she was painfully aware she could be setting herself up for death, the eternal kind this time. Ultimately though she couldn't resist the hopeful look on his face. "Fine, I'll take care of it."

"Hell yeah! Right on," Knox enthused. "Okay, like I said he's some kind of Asian vampire…thing, you know. The only clue I've got is this driver's license that he dropped once while I was tailing him. I've been so freaked out that I haven't even had the chance to check it out."

"I'll look into it," she said, accepting the driver's license.

"Right on. Just come back and let me know the job is done so I can stop freaking out about it. And maybe I'll see Bertram by then."

Rhoslyn nodded slowly. "Hey, do you know where I can get some weapons?"

"As a matter of fact I do. Go see my man Trip at the pawn shop. He won't sell to just anyone, but tell him you know Knox and he'll set you right up."

"Thanks, Knox. Take it easy," Rhoslyn said, giving him a friendly pat on the shoulder.

She studied the license as she stepped out the door, wondering if it was really a clue or just another way for the Asian to play with Knox. She decided to deal with one thing at a time. She was right across from the diner. Time to see about this Thin Blood business.

When she exited the diner again, one carkey, one bailbond and one photo richer, she immediately headed for the bus stop. Upon checking the map, she found that Arthur Kilpatrick's bailbonds was nearby. She was going to check out the bailbond and see if it led anywhere.

She headed for the building, coming across a ranting madman who was holding up a sign that said 'The end is here'.

She went to pass him, when he latched onto her arm and all but shouted in her face, "The sky is all rotten and the storm is our death sentence."

"Leave me alone," Rhoslyn cried, pushing him away a little harder than she meant to.

She walked on while behind her the man kept ranting. She shook her head. What people did for attention nowadays. She entered the Bailbonds building and was immediately greeted by 'Deb'. She looked around and upon spotting the radio, stalked over and turned it off. She simply couldn't stand that voice. The man standing in the shop looked at her with interest but offered no protest. When she turned to him, he spoke up.

"Welcome to Kilpatrick 24-Hour Bail Bonds. My name's Arthur Kilpatrick. How can I help you?"

"You run this place, I assume," Rhoslyn said.

"Yep, sure do," the man said, relaxing a little. "I'm a third-generation bondsman. Got a few employees – a few bondsmen and a bounty hunter – but I handle most aspects of the business."

"Bounty Hunter," Rhoslyn repeated. "Now that's got to be an interesting job."

"You betcha," Arthur agreed. "I used to do some of the bounty huntin' back in the day. Takes a good solid set of brass ball – uh, pardon the expression, missy – but it takes balls to make a good bounty hunter."

"Is the computer for public use, Arthur?" Rhoslyn asked.

"It is," Arthur said. "Though I usually do the searching myself."

"That's okay," she said, heading for the computer. "I'll do it. Is the bounty hunter you have now any good?"

"Yep. Damn good. His name's Carson and he's great at what he does when he wants to do it. I can't seem to find him now, though. He's pissing me off to be honest. I need him to go find someone."

"Can't you find another bounty hunter?" Rhoslyn asked absently as she typed.

"Well, I don't feel right cuttin' Carson loose just yet. We go way back," she heard Arthur say as she found the name on the bailbond in the computer.

Rolf Toten. Owned a Red Lightning Bird '77. License plated 'GuyConi'. Well, that was no help.

"I'll pay you for your time," Arthur was saying.

Rhoslyn's attention immediately focused on Arthur. "You'll pay me for what?"

"For finding Carson," Arthur repeated.

"How much?" Rhoslyn asked.

"Two hundred bucks," Arthur said.

"Deal," Rhoslyn said, smiling a little. It was an extra chore, something she was _not _looking for but two hundred bucks to find someone? Sounded like easy money. "Where should I look for him?"

"I suppose the first place you should look is his apartment at the Santa Monica suites – apartment one, I think it is. Maybe you'll find something there to let you know where he's got himself off to. Here's a keycard that'll let you in."

Rhoslyn accepted the card and nodded. "I'll find him." She got up and went to head for the door when she remembered the driver's license. Virgil Crumb had been the name on it. She searched for him in the computer and found that the man in question was dead and currently in the clinic's morgue.

_'Of course,' _she thought wryly. _'Why wouldn't he be?'_

Upon passing through the parking garage on her way to the clinic, she spotted a red car.

_'No way,' _she thought, shaking her head before heading over. _'It can't be.'_

But it was. She checked the license plate and matched the one of Rolf Toten's car. She opened the unlocked trunk, finding what was obviously a diary. Lily's diary.

She leafed through it as she made her way to Main Street. So Lily had been planning on breaking into the clinic's bloodbank. Rhoslyn sighed. She had been heading for the clinic, she might as well check it out. She entered the clinic through the back door, not wanting to be seen entering through the front door again.

She had planned to head for the morgue first but when she saw the sign that said bloodbank downstairs, she figured she'd go there first. She was in no hurry to head for the morgue anyway. She headed down the stairs and came to a narrow hallway. There was a window occupied by a man and a door next to him.

She tried the door and found that it was locked. She could pick the lock but she could sense the man watching her. She headed back to him and stood at his window.

"You next up for the needle?" he asked. "Your blood could save a life, you know. Oh, but isn't a little late for altruism? I don't think you're here to give blood at all. I don't buy it, Betty. I bet you're here to take blood, am I right?"

Rhoslyn glanced at the employee of the month sign next to the window and caught sight of his name.

"You offering, Vandal?" Rhoslyn asked with a slight smile.

"Right down to business. None of this pretend I don't drink blood shit. Very refreshing to find a decisive customer. I respect that. So, what'll it be?"

"I need to get into the back room," she said matter of factly to the man she now suspected was a ghoul.

"Employees only – them's the rules from the bitch queen herself," Vandal said.

Rhoslyn sighed. "Open the door," she ordered.

Vandal's eyes went vacant for a moment and his hand moved to a button, pressing it. "It's open."

"Thank you, and don't worry," Rhoslyn smiled. "I won't make too much of a mess."

Searching the backrooms eventually led her to a room with a number of chairs. In one of these chairs sat a young, strawberry blonde woman, who Rhoslyn knew had to be Lily. She was shackled to the chair and seemed to be in pain. When Rhoslyn approached, she lifted her head.

"Hunger…I need it…a drop of it on my tongue, sliding down my throat, the hot flash in my brain lighting up my body…I can smell it everywhere…blood."

"What happened to you?" Rhoslyn asked softly, not wanting to startle her.

"Let me go…" she cried, ignoring the question. "It's painful, like I'm going to die. It's calling. Never felt like this before…Let me go! I can smell it! I have to have it!"

"Hold still," Rhoslyn soothed as she stepped forward. "I'll let you go."

Rhoslyn broke the shackles on the chair open just as a man was coming in. Lily leapt at the man before Rhoslyn could stop her, tearing his throat out and draining him dry. Lily turned to Rhoslyn, licking her lips with relish as she got up straight.

"The heat, mmm, it's never been so satisfying. All of it, I drank until I heard his heart stop and I was sucking on a dry, dead artery. It was euphoric," Lily said, before she seemed to snap out of her trance. "But I've… I've killed him. I've never killed anyone before. What happened? What came over me?"

"Calm down. You're okay now," Rhoslyn said, trying hard not to look at the man's body.

"What just happened – it's not who I am. I've never done anything like that before – I'm not a monster," Lily rambled.

"Shh, calm down. It's alright," Rhoslyn soothed, reaching out for her.

"I tried to steal some blood," Lily insisted on explaining as she let Rhoslyn hold her. "I'd heard they sold it, I was hungry and I can't hunt in town…they caught me…I was strapped – trapped…thought I'd never escape but…I killed a man. I have to get out of here…"

"It's okay," Rhoslyn said. "You won't be trapped again."

Lily appeared to calm down a little at that, resting her head on Rhoslyn's shoulder. "I'm Lily."

"I know. E told me about you," Rhoslyn said.

"E?" Lily said, pulling away a little. "You know E? I…How do you know E?"

Seeing that she was finally calm, Rhoslyn let Lily go. "I said I'd help him. What do you know about Thin Bloods?"

Lily sighed. "I tried to tell E about his condition, but he was so furious at me for what I'd made him into he wouldn't listen…A Thin Blood from what I've been told, is a vampire whose blood is weaker than most."

"Go on…" Rhoslyn encouraged.

"Rolf, my sire, told me some vampires consider Thin Bloods a bad omen and want them destroyed. Rolf wasn't a Thin Blood…apparently I am. I don't know why. Rolf abandoned me. His group wouldn't take me in. They said I was a liability. He left me with so many questions. And I did the same thing to E. But I didn't want to leave E. He forced me out of his life…I – I should go. I have to get out of here. Maybe out of this city soon."

"You should go and see E. He said he forgives you. He wants to see you."

"E doesn't hate me anymore?" Lily asked hesitantly. Rhoslyn shook her head. Lily smiled and said, "I'll go see him. Thank you."

"You're welcome. Oh, and this belongs to you," Rhoslyn said, handing her the photo, diary and bail bond.

Lily's smile widened. "Thank you, eh…"

"Rhoslyn," she said when she realized Lily was asking for her name.

"Rhoslyn," Lily repeated. "Thank you so much."

"No problem, now go find E," Rhoslyn ordered good-naturedly.

Lily grinned and ran out. Rhoslyn followed at a slower pace and came face to face with Vandal.

"Why'd you have to go and let that bitch out? Now there's one less Phil in the world. Why'd you have to let her go and eat him up, huh?" Vandal growled. "Now I'll never get to do in that bastard myself. Well, you know what – no blood for you, no more!"

"What are you talking about? Nothing happened back there," she said firmly. "I was just buying blood."

"Right," Vandal said, his eyes vacant for a moment. "Green for red. Interested?"

"Maybe later," Rhoslyn said, before leaving.

Rhoslyn walked through the by now familiar hall of the hospital, making her way to the double doors. She found that they were locked and there was no way to pick the lock. She had to get in, though, and she knew of no other way. She decided to risk it. She broke the lock open and slipped through, hoping no one would notice. She moved down the stairs as quietly as she could, not knowing if there was anybody down there.

She was relieved to see there was no one there, and she was pleased when she managed to find out what she needed to know quite easily. She hacked into the computer and found that Crumb's belongings were in a lockbox with the body. The lock on the lockbox was easily opened.

She looked inside and fished out a silver ring and a keycard for a place called 'Foxy Boxes'. Now where had she heard that name before? The answer was slow in coming since she had only briefly seen the name but she finally remembered. Across from the Asylum, slightly to the right.

She heard a slight noise behind her and she whirled around. There was nothing there. She shrugged her increasingly tense shoulders to try and loosen them up. She was imagining things, hearing things that weren't there. All the same, she decided she had had enough of the morgue. The stench was starting to get to her anyway.

She left the small room and headed for the stairs when she heard voices coming from the top of them. She froze as she heard what they were saying.

"…did you find it?" the first voice asked.

"Just now. But I don't understand it, doctor. The lock looks as though it's been forced but there are no tool marks," the second voice said.

"What are you saying?" the first voice said impatiently. It was doctor Malcolm.

"I'm saying someone broke in without using tools," the second said.

"How can anyone break in without some kind of tool?" Malcolm said, sounding exasperated this time, but he continued before the other could answer, "Never mind, it doesn't matter. I have patients to see to, I can't be worried about people breaking in to the morgue as well. Check downstairs to see if anything is missing and fix the lock."

There were footsteps moving away, followed by footsteps on the stairs.

Rhoslyn snapped out of her stupor. She couldn't be seen. The police would be called and she didn't need them on her tail. She wildly looked around and discovered a hole in the wall, covered by some flimsy boards. The hole wasn't big and she had to crouch to get through but she managed.

She put the wood back into place just as the man came down the final steps and stepped into view. She found herself in a laundry room. She stepped out and saw that she was back where she had been when she had freed Lily. She made her way back up, ignoring Vandal's confused spluttering as she passed him.

She left the clinic, making her way around the building to get back to the Asylum and crossing the street to the building labeled 'Foxy Boxes'. Using the key card to enter, she found herself standing in a small space with a door up ahead and a small room to each side. To the left was a storage room and to the right was an office. Or at least, a room with a laptop in it. She sat down at the desk and found that the laptop required no password. _'How arrogant,'_ she thought as she looked through the notes. The notes were equally arrogant.

**_10/12/04: _**_My initial observations of the city indicate that the Cainites here are both scattered and unorganized. There are three individuals of note, but they seem to be involved in some sort of dispute. I shall continue to watch and listen._

**_10/18/04: _**_These Cainites are a curious and fragile race. They waste the gift of their immortality on petty schemings and fleshly gain. We will have little problem making this city our own._

**_10/21/04: _**_It seems that my presence here has been noted by one of the Cainites, a 'Nosferatu' I believe they are called. He has entrusted the responsibility of my surveillance to a bumbling mortal fool. I have begun to follow this so-called spy…a small, amusing respite from my usual duties._

**_10/23/04: _**_It seems that I have drawn the attention of a newcomer, an agent of the prince. I know very little about this individual, but she seems much more resourceful than most Cainites I have observed. I will prepare myself in the event that our paths cross._

**_10/24/04: _**_The agent of whom I spoke before has discovered the corpse of Virgil Crumb. An altercation seems imminent. If I do not survive, let my last report state that Santa Monica is ripe for the taking. You will find little resistance if we come here in force._

She closed the laptop and sat back in the chair. So this Asian vampire was a part of a much larger group, an apparently well organized group. And they were obviously nothing like vampires if his reference to Cainites was any indication. She got up and left the office-like room. Time to deal with the 'Asian dude' that had given her newfound friend, Knox, so much grief.

A short while later she stepped into the Asylum again, a scowl still on her face. She absently rubbed her aching shoulder as she made her way to Knox. The bastard Asian had a crossbow. He had managed to shoot her three times before she got a hold of him.

Once she had her hands on him, he didn't stand a chance and the fight was swiftly over, but getting shot hurt terribly and pulling the bolts out had been even worse. Though it was healing quickly, the shots had put her in an even worse mood than she had already been in.

"Hey, girl," Knox greeted when he saw her. "How's that thing coming along?"

Rhoslyn scowled at him and he took a step back.

"Not so good, huh?" he said nervously.

She reined in her temper, a temper that still felt unfamiliar, and took a deep breath. _'It isn't his fault,' _she reminded herself. _'You're the one who got her fool self shot.'_

"It's done," she finally said. "You don't have to worry about it anymore."

"Right on, girl," Knox said, regaining his enthusiasm when he saw she didn't look so pissed anymore. "Hey, sorry again for what happened before. I still haven't heard anything from Bertram but I'll let him know about how good you did and about how you were cool about everything. Yeah, oh man."

Rhoslyn felt a slight smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

"Do you have any idea what that thing was?" she asked.

"Bertram said it's like a vampire, but different, you know. It's like what they have in China instead of vampires. He said lots of them have been coming to California for some reason, I dunno."

Rhoslyn nodded, pondering this. "I'd better be going."

"See ya, girl, and thanks a lot."

She nodded again, already making her way to the door. It was time to find Carson. Once she was done with that, she would go to the hotel and hopefully sort out that mess. And then…well, she didn't know what would happen after that but it would have nothing to do with the Camarilla if she had any say in it.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: I'm finding it very hard to estimate when enough time has gone by for the sun to come up and when Rhoslyn has to go back to her haven to sleep. For the sake of my sanity, I will leave these moments unwritten. Just imagine she does go back to her haven to sleep whenever it is necessary.

**_Chapter 4: _**

Carson's apartment was much like Mercurio's, big and luxurious, in Rhoslyn's eyes anyway. She walked in and looked around the place, thinking Carson was very obviously a bachelor. The poster of someone called Imalia on the wall was testament to that. She looked around for a moment before catching sight of the memo-recorder standing on a coffee table. She walked over and turned it on.

"Check, check, is this thing recording?" a voice that was obviously Carson's said. "God, I hate these things." He cleared his throat before continuing, "Anyway, the McGee case is getting weirder all the time. I found where he's been hiding and I saw some really creepy stuff down there. There was no sign of McGee. I'm gonna follow up on another lead I got too. I updated the files on the computer. Uh, this is Carson signing off. Man, that sounds stupid."

Rhoslyn grinned. Carson sounded like an okay guy. The kind you couldn't help but like despite an obviously cynical nature. She sat down at the computer and hacked into it, still stunned she was even able to do that. She found out that McGee had been hiding out at the Tattoo Parlor and that the key was on the tv. She picked up the keycard and left the apartment.

She headed for the tattoo parlor. The sign said 'Devil's Brand Tattoo. Professional Body Piercing'. She used the keycard and entered, finding herself in what was obviously a long since abandoned shop. A counter with an old till. A small waiting area with a comfy chair and a table with magazines. A small room in the back with a chair used for the piercing and tattooing.

And a stairs leading down. She had no sooner approached the stairs when a phone started ringing down there. She slowly made her way down and walked into the basement. She frowned as she looked at the persistently ringing phone and finally decided to just see who it was.

She picked it up and was immediately greeted by a nasal voice. "Hello. Might I speak with mr. McGee?"

"He doesn't seem to be here at the moment. Can I help you?" Rhoslyn asked politely.

"Well, I'm not sure. I had an appointment with him a few days ago, but he never seemed to show up." The man gave a nervous sounding laugh at that. "Do you know when he'll return?"

"I don't, actually. What sort of appointment was this?" she asked.

"Well, mr. McGee was going to be doing some modeling for me. Medical reference for the work that I do here in the studio. It's a shame really…the proposition would have been quite lucrative for him."

"Really?" Rhoslyn asked, perking up. That sounded good. "Maybe I could come down and model for you…"

"Why, yes, that sounds delightful. Perhaps you could come down to my studio and we can sort out the details…" he suggested.

"Sounds good. Where are you located?" she asked, excited at the prospect of doing something normal.

"I'm at the end of Main Street, a small basement studio. The sign says 'Gimble's Prosthetics'. Just ring the buzzer and I'll let you in."

"Okay, I'll be there in a little while," Rhoslyn said, before hanging up.

She turned away from the phone to get a proper look at the small basement. It was worse than upstairs and it had a creepy feel to it. There was a bed and an old tv stationed on a stack of boxes. There was a sign on the wall that said 'Quick Cash for Modeling! Call Gimble's Prosthetics: 310-555-0142'. Next to it were pictures of people's hands and feet. She shook her head, trying to shake the ominous feeling. It was time to go.

* * *

Before she went to her modeling job, she decided to pay the Pawnshop a visit. After selling her excess items to Trip, who turned out to be a nice guy much like his friend Knox, she had more than four hundred dollars in her wallet. She figured if she was gonna be on her own after all this was done, she would need all the money she could get. Hopefully the modeling job would pay well.

Finding Gimble's Prosthetics was no problem given the large sign on the wall right next to it. Pressing the button and identifying herself was a piece of cake and stepping in was a breeze. Then came the hard part. Shaking off the eerie feeling that Stanley Gimble gave her.

His manner and words were friendly enough, but his face…his face was void of any kind of friendliness. His eyes were dark, cold and calculating. The fake arm didn't help matters either. Rhoslyn was getting seriously uncomfortable and she had already decided she would tell the man she had changed her mind.

"About the modeling…" she began when he had finished introducing himself.

"Aha, an eager participant," he cut in. "Very good." He was heading for the door and wasn't listening to her spluttered protests. "Just give me a few moments to get my equipment ready and then come on in and we'll get started." The last part was shouted over his shoulder, just as the door closed.

Then he was gone, leaving a flabbergasted Rhoslyn behind. She looked around the innocent looking waiting room and then shrugged. What was the worst that could happen? She'd do his modeling, get whatever money he wanted to pay and go. Easy enough. Right? She opened the door Gimble had disappeared through and went to look for him.

Her search of Gimble's basement 'studio' proved that evil could try to disguise itself but it could never truly be hidden. She had sensed something off about Gimble and she had been right. The first large room was ominous but didn't really reveal anything, except a blood pack in the fridge.

It was the small rooms that came after, that revealed the true horror. The first two meant little to her, it was the third that chilled her to the bone. It wasn't the surgical table that stood in the middle of the room, or even the grizzly pictures on the wall. It was the fact that the entire room was covered in blood.

She went on, even more on her guard now, and came to a set of double doors. The doors led to a large space, another surgical table in the middle. She was slowly approaching it when she was hailed by somebody in one of the two cells off to the side.

"Huh? Oh! Hey! Help! You gotta get me out of here, man! This guy's a freakin' nutjob!"

"Who? Gimble?" Rhoslyn questioned.

"'Who? Gimble?'" the man repeated irritably. "Yeah, Gimble! That guy's been taking pieces off a' me and McGee over here for the past three days. He's crazy. Freakin' crazy."

"Okay, where's the key to this door?" she asked, but before he could answer, Gimble reappeared.

He was carrying was looked to be an arm and he was heading straight for her. She dodged his strikes with the severed limb and grabbed hold of him, seeing fear bloom in his eyes when he realized just what she was. She tore his head from his body and was surprised when he didn't dissolve. Not a vampire, then.

She stood there thoughtfully for a moment until an annoyed 'Hey' snapped her out of her reverie. She opened the door to the cell using the lever on the side of it and Carson stepped out.

"Thanks, girl. You're a lifesaver. I wasn't sure I was going to make it. I'm telling you…I've been on some weird cases, but this one takes the cake."

"You're Carson I take it?" Rhoslyn asked.

"Yeah…yeah, that's me," Carson said, frowning slightly. "How did you know?"

"Arthur Kilpatrick sent me," she answered.

"He did? Ah, man. That's solid. I owe that guy big. I hope I can figure out a way to pay him back for this."

"I'm sure you will," she said. "McGee's in the next cell?"

"Yeah, but I wouldn't bother checking on him," Carson said, shuddering slightly. "He's been dead for a while now."

Rhosly nodded, deciding not to go see. "Well, Arthur's got some work for you, so you should head back to the office," she suggested.

"What?" Carson said, sounding surprised. "Oh, no. No, no, no. Not for me anymore. Look at my hand!" He held up a hand that was missing the index finger. "Gimble took my trigger finger for a trophy. I'm all through with this business. I hate to leave Arthur in a lurch, but that's just the way it is."

Rhosly nodded understandingly. If she had been through what poor Carson had been through, she wouldn't want any part of the bounty hunting business anymore either.

"I'll give him the bad news," she promised. "Take care."

"I will, but I'll be doing it far away from here," Carson said before he ran out.

Rhoslyn looked around the room she was in and shuddered. It was definitely time to get out of there. She stayed well away from the severed arm that lay on the ground close to Gimble's body. Strangely, the sight of Gimble's decapitated body didn't bother her half as much as the sight of the severed arm did.

* * *

When Rhoslyn entered Bail Bonds, the radio was on. She frowned slightly as she walked over to it.

"Hey there. What can I do you for?" Arthur Kilpatrick greeted, once again not protesting when she turned the radio off.

"I found Carson. Unfortunately, he's not coming back," she said.

"What? Ain't coming back? What do you mean he ain't coming back?" he asked, sounding highly affronted.

"His trigger finger got cut off by a psychopath," she said.

"Man, that's a tough one," Arthur said, wincing on Carson's behalf. "Bounty Hunter ain't no good without his trigger finger. Well, hell. That really leaves me in hot water. Gonna cost old Arthur real good."

"Maybe you could pay me and then tell me what the problem is," Rhoslyn suggest casually.

"Oh yeah. Sorry about that. Here ya are," Arthur said, smiling nervously.

Rhoslyn gratefully accepted the money, counting 201, rather than 200, and giving him the dollar back. Again this was done without thinking about it. She put the rest in her wallet.

"You were saying?" she said as she put her wallet back in her bag.

"I got this guy with a sheet a mile long, put in on three warrants. His girlfriend put up for the bond and now he missed a court date. I can't get in touch with either of 'em. Want a job?"

"That depends on what I would have to do," she said.

"Well, it won't be much of a job since you ain't licensed and all but until I can get me another bounty hunter, I need you to find out if this guy skipped town or what?!"

"So you just want me to find out if he's here or not?" she asked.

"Yeah, no body attachment or nothing, just find out if he's here, or where he went. I'll pay you. Deal?"

"How much?" Rhoslyn asked.

"150," Arthur offered.

"Deal," Rhoslyn said, thinking that was easy money.

She stopped at that thought, realizing that had been what she thought about finding Carson and that had not been as easy as she had expected.

"Great," Arthur continued heedlessly. "Alright, this guy's name is Mike Durbin. Goes by the name 'Muddy'. His girlfriend put up for his bond. She lives over there above Trip's Pawnshop. Her name's Marian Murietta, but I haven't been able to get in touch with her."

"So just head over to her place?" Rhoslyn asked.

"That's right. Marian Murietta in one of them crappy places above the pawnshop," Arthur said. Rhoslyn briefly wondered if she should be offended by his depiction of the pawnshop apartments, but he was already continuing, "Find out where the hell Muddy is, where is he going, whatever. But be careful. You're not licensed and if anything bad goes down, I don't know ya. Ya hear me?"

"I hear you," she confirmed.

"Alright, come back when ya got some info. Thanks in advance," Arthur said.

"I'll let you know as soon as I find something," she promised before leaving.

* * *

_'Who…' _Rhoslyn mused as she entered Pawnshop apartment 507. _'…leaves a spare key behind a plant?'_ Anyone could just head right on in. And then, as she walked in, she realized there really wasn't a reason not to leave the key behind the plant. There was nothing inside.

Nothing that was, except an answering machine, the light of which was blinking. She walked over and pressed the button.

_'Hey Mare, it's Mike. Look, I gotta head downtown for a few days, maybe longer. If Reno calls tell him to meet me down there. We've got something to discuss apparently. I'll be at Milton's place in the Skyline lofts 2a. Sorry, baby, I'll explain everything later.'_

So Muddy was heading downtown. That was good to know. She exited the room and entered her own. She really needed to bathe. When she was clean again, even if her clothes weren't, she decided to check her emails while she was there. She was glad she did when she found one from LaCroix.

_'It has come to our attention that a vial of werewolf blood has made it into the hands of a local tabloid and that they have sent it on to the clinic in Santa Monica for testing. The responsible party has been dealt with (most painfully, I assure you), but for obvious reasons we can't have anyone testing the blood. Please retrieve the blood sample from the clinic and leave it in your mail box. You will be compensated accordingly. – SL.'_

She sat back in the chair and sighed irritably. She supposed she had no choice but to do it. She didn't have to like it, but she had to do it.

She entered the clinic through the back door. A quick visit to the administration computer revealed to her that the blood sample was in the electronic safe in Controlled Substances which was up the stairs. She headed up and upon entering the upstairs area, she was accosted by a guard.

"This area's for hospital staff only," he barked at her.

She frowned. She could have told him that she was there to work on the network but too much time had elapsed for that so she decided to take the easy way out.

"Give me your keys and leave me alone," she ordered.

The guard's eyes went vacant as he gave her the keys. "You can let yourself out."

"Thanks," she nodded.

She entered the CIS room and hacked into the computer. Unlocking both the Controlled Substances door and the safe was a matter of seconds but the message she got gave her pause. 'Controlled Substances camera enabled for your security.' She would have to fix that before she went in.

She looked around and found the security room. She entered, using the computer to turn off the camera in Controlled Substances and then retrieved the Werewolf Blood. Before she left she saw there was another room labeled 'Prescriptions'. She briefly considered going in there but theft for the sake of theft did not appeal to her so she left it alone. She was more than willing to do chores to make money but stealing was to be done only in emergencies.

Having put the Werewolf Blood in her mail box, she went to Arthur for her money. After telling him that 'Muddy' had gone downtown, she received her $150. She didn't think she was quite done looking for Muddy though. Maybe she could find him and make even more money by turning him in.

She hadn't told Arthur that he would be at the Skyline apartments, so that would be her advantage over any bounty hunter that came after him. The message was still on Marian Murietta's answering machine so she quickly made her way back to Murietta's apartment to erase it.

Having done that, and feeling decidedly dishonest, she decided to head for the Ocean House Hotel. It was time to go hunting for some kind of personal item. _'Ghosts and spirits,' _she thought as she opened the manhole in the parking garage. _'Here I come.'_

* * *

She ended up choosing to use the manhole in the parking garage to enter the sewers. There never seemed to be anybody in there so it wasn't likely anyone would see her go down. As she crouched through the pipe and into the sewer, her foot struck a rat and she all but jumped out of her skin.

The rat squeaked indignantly as it scurried away, and Rhoslyn sighed, slapping herself mentally. _'Pull yourself together.'_ She exited the pipe and looked left and right. On the left there seemed to be nothing but sewer. On the right, however, was a map. She approached it hopefully, but frowned when she saw it was a map of Los Angeles and not a very detailed one.

_'How am I supposed to...'_

She stopped that thought when to her left, and in the distance, she saw a gate. She retrieved her keys from her bag and made her way over to the gate, pleased when the sewer gate key she had been given fit.

_'So obviously this is the right way.'_

'Access Point A' the sign behind the ladder said. She climbed up the ladder and moved the manhole cover, making her way out of the sewer. Walking around a mound of earth, she found herself in an area that looked more like a construction site than anything else.

To the right was the large hotel. Ahead and slightly to the left was a cabin. She turned right and headed for the hotel. She wanted to get this over with. As she approached the front door, she was startled when the lamp on the right of it exploded in her face, showering her with glass. She blinked owlishly for a moment, before brushing the glass off her shoulders and out of her hair.

_'Okay, that was a nice start.'_

She tried the front door and found that it was locked. She brought out her lockpick and prepared to pick the lock, when she remembered the cabin. She put the lockpick away again and started making her way across the open space, toward the cabin. Why bother with picking locks, and possibly having to use Blood Buff, when there might be a key to be found? She shivered as she walked, there was definitely an ominous feeling to the place.

The cabin had obviously been long abandoned. All that remained inside was a desk in the corner with a small monitor and a phone on it, neither still working, and two ratty chairs. Next to the desk and on the wall was a hook, however, and on it was a key. A key that was labeled 'Ocean House Frontdoor Key'.

She opened the front door to the hotel and stepped into what was once a beautiful lobby. She frowned to herself as she heard the creepy sounds coming from all over the house.

_'Great,' _she thought. _'So the ghosts are coming out to play.'_

She stepped forward, determined not to show that it bothered her. Though it truly did. A fight she could handle. Though she had never been a fighter when she was alive, as a vampire she was okay at it. But things that she couldn't see, or touch, in other words, things that she couldn't beat, just made her nervous.

Between the two staircases in front of her she noticed a small table with a newspaper on it. She curiously stepped forward to go see when a terrible noise came from above her and she just barely managed to leap back and out of the way of a falling chandelier.

She walked around it, her frown deepening as she looked at the chandelier, when she heard something behind her. She whirled around, only to be assailed by a table lamp. She swiped at it, sending it careening into the wall, where it smashed to pieces. Her frown turned into a scowl. Now that just pissed her off. She wasn't there to fool around, she was there to get a personal possession of a ghost and that was what she would do. She turned to the table, picking the paper up with decidedly less interest than she had before.

_'GRAND OPENING! Santa Monica celebrates the new Ocean House Hotel.'_

She dropped the newspaper and headed right. A vase came flying at her and she just barely managed to swipe it out of the air. She moved on, her frown now seemingly permanent. She found an elevator. She frowned when none of the buttons did anything before remembering the power was out.

_'Maybe I should turn the power back on.' _She scowled. _'Or maybe I should just use the freaking stairs.'_

Shaking her head at herself she exited the elevator and she saw what she had missed when she had entered it. There was a paper on the floor.

_'OCEAN HOUSE FIRE! Source of Inferno still a mystery to officials.'_

She headed further and wound up in a deadend hallway. She was spooked when a voice whispered to her. _'He's here.' _Rhoslyn whirled around and cried out involuntarily when she came face to face with the hunched figure of a man. It disappeared as she looked at it and she swallowed hard as she left the hall.

This time she went the other way. Apart from more vases, picture frames and lamps flying at her as she walked there was nothing there. She once again walked into a deadend hallway. This time the voice whispered, _'He's watching.' _She whirled around again, fully expecting to see the man again. This time, however, she was only greeted by a hostile table lamp.

She made her way back to center of the lobby and veered away from the staircase that creaked before she even stepped on it. Instead she chose the one on the left. She had just enough time to say, "What the…" before it collapsed underneath her. Silence ensued for a long moment before a steady stream of expletives came pouring out of the hole.

She brushed herself off, glaring at the hole above her. The most obvious way out of wherever she was, was a pile of bricks, that was obviously meant to be a wall. She kicked the bricks out of the way and crawled through the resulting hole.

Apart from a newspaper that held the most ominous headline yet, _'HOTEL HELL! Child's severed head found in hotel laundry room', _the room itself held nothing. She headed for the door and was slightly alarmed when it opened all by itself. She stepped through and found herself in a small space with three possible ways to go. One led to a deadend, another led to an elevator that still didn't work, and the last led to a larger area.

She walked into the last hallway, but stopped dead in her tracks when the ghost of a frightened young woman came rushing past. She swallowed hard as she made her way away from where the young woman had gone and found herself in the laundry room.

Her palms were sweaty and her head felt heavy when she heard the sound of something bouncing around in one of the dryers. She was drawn to the dryer that was making the terrible sound. The sound suddenly stopped and Rhoslyn reached for the door of the dryer.

She took a deep breath and yanked it open, nearly ripping the door off its hinges. She had fully expected to see a severed head in there, but instead she found only a key. It was labeled 'Boiler Room'. She nodded. _'Right, into the boiler room to turn the power back on. And then on to the elevator to go up.'_

She found the boiler room door easily, lit by a red bulb as it was, and she slowly made her way down. She found herself in a large room filled with large pipes and she quickly made her way around them. She heard a noise behind her but she kept on going. She wouldn't look, she wouldn't.

She flipped the switch she found inside a small cage and was relieved when the whole place lit up, albeit reluctantly and under protest. She made her way back to the elevator and got on. Pressing a button wasn't necessary as it apparently knew exactly where to go.

The elevator doors opened on the second floor and Rhoslyn stepped out. She made her way into the main corridor only to have a painting slam into her back from behind. She winced as she felt the pieces of the painting slash her back.

She walked on, deciding it would heal itself, but as she turned the corner, she was once again assailed, this time by a picture frame. She picked a piece of it out of her forehead but nonetheless went on. She looked ahead and saw that the female ghost was standing close to a small table.

When Rhoslyn came closer, she disappeared. She was startled by the sound of the standing clock chiming as she passed it, and she scowled at it. Where the ghost had been was a small table and two chairs. A paper was on the table.

_'ANOTHER BODY! Police say second child was 'chopped up like firewood'_

Rhoslyn winced at the picture that accompanied the headline. _'Not a nice ghost, then.'_

She walked into the hallway that held two sets of double doors. The first set opened on their own. Judging by the toys on the floor, it was a children's room. Rhoslyn picked up a drawing from the floor and gasped when she saw what it depicted. A daddy, a mommy and two children. But the daddy was drawn as a demon of some kind. _'What is going on here?'_

The second room was the parents' room. It had a dark, wrong feel to it somehow. Like something wasn't right about the room. Rhoslyn walked in and almost immediately the lights went off. When they went back on, the words 'Get Out' had been carved into the wall above the bed's headboard.

Rhoslyn slowly walked to the nightstand, almost absently swiping at the vase that flew at her. She opened the nightstand and found a key, it was labeled 'Upstairs Key'.

As she walked out and passed the children's room, a toy came rolling out, accompanied by the chime of a bicycle bell. For some reason it brought tears to Rhoslyn's eyes. She impatiently pushed them back, she didn't have time for crying.

In the distance she thought she saw the female ghost again and she made her way to where the ghost was standing. The ghost raised her arm and pointed at the room she was standing next to before disappearing. Rhoslyn used the key to enter the room, a badly burnt room.

There was nothing in the room except boards on the floor and after moving them, she found a hole. She dropped through the hole and found herself in a bar, another newspaper on the counter.

_'MURDER SUICIDE! Ocean House killer possibly responsible for inferno!'_

She put the paper back down and looked up when she caught sight of a blinking light. One ride up in a very cramped service elevator later and she was in the kitchen. On the counter was a diary. The diary of the woman she had seen as a ghost.

Tears rose in Rhoslyn's eyes as she read the entries and this time she let them fall. It was now all too clear what had happened. Husband and wife take their children on a nice holiday. The husband, Ed, becomes suspicious that his wife is having an affair, an unfounded suspicion, and winds up killing not just her, but their children as well.

She closed the diary and put it back on the counter just as a rattling noise started up. She looked up and caught a pot right on the jaw. Another pan hit her in the knee, before she was able to pull herself together enough to defend herself. The stoves all lit up at once, burning Rhoslyn on the side of her left arm before she was able to get out of the way. A large object slammed through the door to the side and Rhoslyn quickly made her way over, darting through just as another large object flew at her.

She collapsed against a wall near a vent and gasped at the pain in various parts of her body. She opened her bag and quickly retrieved a bloodpack. After emptying it, she could feel her wounds healing even faster than usual and she was glad. That had hurt.

The only way out of the room was through the vent and so through the vent she went. The woman whispered, 'Be careful' to her and Rhoslyn nodded, she'd be careful. She smashed the grate covering the vent at the end and jumped through.

The snapping of a cable made her look up and she was shocked to find the elevator heading straight for her. She leapt out of the way, winding up next to a ladder leading up. The elevator crashed into place and it was a long while before Rhoslyn was able to move again.

She took a deep breath and started climbing the ladder, resolving that she wouldn't let it get to her. So she had nearly died, nearly didn't count.

_'Just keep telling yourself that,' _she thought sourly as she made her way up.

The only doors that would open were on the second floor and so she got out there. She first turned the corner to the right. In one of the rooms, she found a thistle. She didn't know exactly what it did but for some reason it felt right to have it on her person so she kept it. She also found another paper.

_'MURDERS UNSOLVED! Mother or father could have been Ocean House killer'_

Rhoslyn couldn't believe it. How could something so simple be unsolved? She went back to the elevator, this time turning left. Once again the female ghost came running by, frightened and upset. This time, however, Rhoslyn followed her. She winced as shards of a vase penetrated her ear and cheek.

"You can be pissed off all you want," she shouted into the darkness as she peeled the pieces out. "I'm gonna get what I want anyway."

The hostility in the house seemed to grow at that and she just barely turned around in time to swipe a large and rather heavy chair out of the air, bruising her wrist. She scowled at her surroundings before following the hallway the woman had run into.

More exploding lamps preceded the exploding of an entire door, the pieces of which just barely missed her. She sighed as she stepped over the rubble. Ed really didn't like her. The room she entered had beams on the far side of it, beams that helped her get to the floor above quite nicely.

Apparently, Ed wasn't happy that she had found her way up because no sooner had she crossed the room when blue and purple flames came flying out of the walls. Flames that were very capable of doing what Ed himself couldn't. Killing her. She went through the door at the end of the room. More flames were in the hallway. She went around a hole in the floor, flames licking up from its depths.

After the hole there was a hallway that filled with gas, gas that burned worse than the flames did. She ran through, just barely making it to the other side with her unlife intact. She crashed through the door and crumpled to the floor, her body burnt all over. She fumbled for her bag and grabbed a pack.

_'If this keeps up, I'll end up running out.'_

It didn't matter, though. She needed the blood. The blue blood in the pack slipped down her throat, mending her with ease. She sighed in relief before taking a moment to see where she was. Her mouth dropped open in disbelief as she found herself sitting in a very nice, very undamaged room.

She got up slowly, pleased when it didn't hurt, and walked around the room, not able to believe what her own eyes were telling her. On a small table in the corner of the room lay a beautiful pendant, and somehow Rhoslyn knew this was what she had been looking for.

She picked it up, only for the room to return to its original decrepit state.

_'So, it was merely an illusion.'_

Illusion or no illusion, Rhoslyn had what she had gone there for and now it was time to leave. She leapt down the hole in the room, making her way through a door that opened for her. She jumped down the liftshaft, prying open the doors to the second floor. She jumped over the banister, not willing to take her chances with the stairs, and ran out the door.

Rhoslyn gratefully let the door shut behind her, ignoring the bloodcurdling scream of a man behind her and smiling slightly at the whispered 'Thank you' that floated on a breeze. She looked up at the sky. It had started raining and the rain felt right somehow. Like it was purifying her. Her body no longer ached, there were no wounds, and she had what she came there for.

_'Right,' _she thought as she headed back to the manhole. _'Therese. Then Tung. Then whatever chore I have to do. Go to Los Angeles. Tell Lacroix to go to Hell. Live – or something like that – happily ever after. Right.'_


	5. Chapter 5

**_Chapter 5: _**

Nothing ever goes the way it's supposed to. She should have known, but she had expected things to be a little easier than they had been nonetheless. She had made her way back to the Asylum, intent on giving Therese the pendant and then heading to meet with Tung. Instead, she had found a pouting Jeanette and no Therese in sight.

"How odd," Jeanette purred. "I was just having naughty thoughts about you. You made quite an impression earlier. Did you come up just to cheer lonely, little me?"

Rhoslyn sighed at that, Jeanette certainly couldn't be accused of subtlety.

"Actually, I need to see Therese," she said.

"Therese is out making a show of how well her lips fit on the pants seat of the Camarilla," Jeanette said. Rhoslyn's upper lip curled at the mention of the Camarilla and Jeanette smirked, before continuing, "Did you happen to find her chastity belt or something?"

"I got her something from the Ocean House Hotel," Rhoslyn said.

"Ooh, can I see it?" Jeanette asked, jumping up and down, producing a rather…interesting effect, bossom-wise.

Rhoslyn brought out the pendant and held it up.

"It's beautiful," Jeanette cooed, reaching for it.

Rhoslyn pulled it away and Jeanette pouted.

"It's look only I'm afraid," Rhoslyn said apologetically.

"I'm not just some silly doll, you know," Jeanette said, her bottom lip quivering. "All my life my sister has made me out to be a joke. She told you I was an embarassment, didn't she? That I couldn't tie my shoes, let alone hold on to something for her. Is that it?"

Rhoslyn mused that that did sound an awful lot like Therese. "She didn't actually say that…" she began.

"She's always belittling me," Jeanette cut in, sounding heart-broken. "She's the smart one, she's the favorite, she's the successful one. Well, it's not fair. I'm not a fool. This club's success is just as much my doing as it is hers."

"I'm sure that it is," Rhoslyn soothed. "But my deal with Therese means I can only give it to her."

"Do you understand what it's like to have your own flesh and blood ripping you apart on a daily basis for two lifetimes? Can you?"

Rhoslyn shook her head. She couldn't but it didn't matter. She wanted those spirits released, the female ghost deserved to be freed, and if she gave the pendant to Jeanette, that wasn't likely to happen. She didn't need to be a psychic to know that.

"I'm sorry, but it has to go to Therese," Rhoslyn insisted.

"Fine," Jeanette said airily, her entire attitude doing a 180, a smirk forming on her face. "You hold on to it. Hmm…Since you were so willing to brave that big, spooky place for my darling sister, how about doing a teeny, tiny favor for little, troubled me?"

For a moment Rhoslyn was close to tears. More chores? More work? She thought of saying no but something stopped her. Something told her she didn't really have a choice.

"That depends on what it is," she finally said carefully.

"Do you know Gallery Noir, down the street? I happen to know there's a charity event being organized there. Lots of influential Santa Monicans slithering in for token appearances. But there's one thing they don't know – The whole event's been set up by a Kindred trying to establish their own power clique in our city. And we can't let that happen, can we? So I need some brilliant young up-start to spoil the milk."

"What do I do?" Rhoslyn asked.

Jeanette giggled delightedly. "I promise this won't take long. Take this knife," she said, handing Rhoslyn a blade. "Give the paintings in the gallery a good slashing. Don't get caught and don't turn it into a massacre. And steal the charity box, would you? Buy yourself something velvet."

"I'm not going to steal charity money," Rhoslyn said indignantly.

"It's not what you think," Jeanette assured her. "Every pretty penny dropped in that box is going right into some other Kindred's purse. You'd be crooking from a dirty steal."

"It doesn't matter, it's the principle that counts," Rhoslyn insisted. "I'm not stealing charity money, but I'd be willing to do the rest. Then the feud will be called off?"

"I'm sure Therese will be thrilled to honor your agreement when you get back," Jeanette chirped. "But in the mean time, get to the museum and ruin those paintings, then come back. I want to hear all about it…Hurry up, I can only amuse myself for so long."

"I'll be right back," Rhoslyn said, rolling her eyes when her back was turned to Jeanette.

As she walked away, she heard Jeanette say, "Oh, and there was something about the paintings. Hm, what was it?" She sighed. "I can't remember. Oh well, have fun, duckling."

Rhoslyn left the Asylum and made her way to Gallery Noir. She knew where it was, she had passed it several times. The front door of the place was locked and when she went to see about a back door, she was accosted by a guard, or by what was to pass for a guard. He was a portly man with a dumb look on his face. He was most likely completely harmless.

"Hey! Hey, hold on a minute there, I'm afraid you're committing a 351, that's trespassing on private property. I'm gonna have to ask you to vacate the premises immediately, or I'm afraid I'll be forced to radio this in."

_'Great,' _Rhoslyn thought. _'Not overly competent, but certainly overly enthusiastic. Just what I need.'_

She decided to take the easy way.

"Open the door," she commanded.

His eyes went even more vacant and he said, "Uh…sure. Yeah, I can do that. Right this way."

He unlocked the door for and stepped aside. Rhoslyn gave him a friendly nod before stepping inside.

The gallery was small, consisting of only a few artifacts. There were some vases and busts to the side but the main focus was obviously of the painted variety. There were four paintings, each of them depicting a scene in the life of Caine. Caine slaying Abel. Caine meeting Lilith. Caine being cursed by God. And Caine spurning Lilith, obviously not in that order.

The order turned out to be very important because when Rhoslyn tried slashing them randomly, she was blasted in the face by a bright red beam. She winced as she touched the slight burns on her face.

_'Okay, order, got it,' _she thought.

She looked at each painting in turn. _'Caine slew Abel before he was cursed by God.' _She slashed the paintings in that order and was glad when it worked. _'And Caine obviously had to meet Lilith before he could spurn her.'_ She slashed the final paintings and felt very pleased with herself until she noticed the bright red beams coming from all four paintings. The same kind of beams that had hit her before.

She watched in disbelief as the four beams met in the middle of the gallery and a figure emerged from the point where they met. An accurate description of what she saw was impossible. 'Man made of blood' came to mind. It wasn't really, but it was the closest she could get to describing it.

Whatever it was wasted no time in lunging for her. It feigned and dodged, slashed and clawed, and slashed Rhoslyn in the face before she managed to kill it. She gingerly prodded the slashes on her face and winced. At least he hadn't hit her eyes.

She made her way back to the Asylum, keeping her slashed face turned away from everyone she saw. She didn't need people calling an ambulance for her, or some such nonsense.

This time Therese _was_ there, and Jeanette was the one nowhere to be found.

"You," Therese seethed when Rhoslyn came in. "What were you thinking?!"

"I…" Rhoslyn began.

"The museum! That was my event! Did you think I wouldn't find out?" Therese ranted.

"But…" Rhoslyn tried.

"Shut up," Therese snapped. "I thought I could control my sister as long as Tung was out of the picture, but nothing's changed. I should have expected that you'd succumb to Jeanette's influence like all the others. But how dare you!"

Rhoslyn was flabbergasted for a moment, before blurting out, "I didn't do it. I swear!"

"Jeanette claimed you did it for her," Therese said, calming down somewhat. "But let's say I believe you. After all, you've acted decently and rationally up to now. I imagine you'd still like me to call off the feud?"

"Yes," Rhoslyn nodded, before remembering the pendant. "And I have the item from the Ocean House too."

"Excellent, I'll take that," Therese said, looking pleased for the first time. "However, there's only one problem. If Tung gets word that I threatened Jeanette, which he most certainly already has, it's not likely he'll believe me. So, in order to call off the feud, you're going to have to convince Jeanette to forgive me first."

"And how do I do that?" Rhoslyn frowned.

Therese sighed. "I made some threats against my sister. Idle threats – involving fire and her impious satin sheets…she took them quite seriously and is avoiding me. I want to meet with her and explain that they were said in the heat of the moment. I asked her to meet me at the Surfside diner to reconcile, but I'm busy with the club and my other endeavors. I'd like you to go to the diner, and promise her that I don't plan to take any action against her. Wait for her in the back booth, near the phones."

"I'll go," Rhoslyn reluctantly agreed. "Then the feud is off?"

"I want to see my sister," Therese said irritably. "Yes, I'll call it off once I've spoken with her myself. Just do what I ask."

* * *

Rhoslyn muttered under her breath as she entered the diner. Being sent to the diner to make amends with Jeanette on Therese's behalf didn't sound like a barrel of laughs to her but she figured if she was ever going to get Therese to call off the feud with Tung, she might as well as do it.

She snapped out of her thoughts as she realized the diner was strangely quiet. There was one attendant in the place as well as four rather sinister looking characters. Jeanette wasn't there but Therese had said to wait for her. She made her way to the backbooth, feeling that something was off.

She was proven right when the four thugs opened fire as she got closer to the phones. She had the distinct fortune that they were lousy shooters and only one bullet hit her. It slammed into her back before she turned and attacked them. Disposing of them was easy enough but it made her angry. What was she being attacked for?

She soon found out when the phone in the back rang. It was Therese.

"I'm terribly sorry about that. My sister was just furious about your refusal to take part in her designs, so she sent those men to kill you. But I'm going to make sure it never happens again. Drop by, we'll take care of this Tung business."

Jeanette suddenly cut in, "She's crazy! HELP!"

Before Rhoslyn could speak, the phone went dead. She frowned as she walked to the bodies of the men. She couldn't believe Jeanette had sent them to kill her. Sure, she was manipulative, and she used people for the fun of it, but to try to have her killed? That seemed more like Therese's thing.

She picked up the shotgun one of them had dropped as well as some more bullets for her .38. She sighed when her body finally expelled the bullet from her back and the wound healed slowly. She looked up when she heard police sirens. Time to go.

* * *

Upon entering the room of the Voerman sisters for the umpteenth time, she had expected to see both of them standing there. As it turned out, she _was_ looking at both of them…in the same body. One half of the face of the woman in front of her was Therese. Little make-up and a half-formed bun. The other half was Jeanette. A lot of make-up and a ponytail on the side of the head.

"You," what was obviously Therese greeted. "I'm really sorry it had to end this way, I truly am. You seemed promising, but you've been tainted by the stink of my sister's schemes. And now, I'm going to make sure she never double-crosses me again."

"Don't listen to her," Jeanette cut in. "She'll kill us both. Save me and I'll help you find Bertram, I swear."

"Shut up, Jeanette," Therese snapped. "I warned you to stay away from Tung – he's turned you against me! I always looked out for you! But you couldn't stand my success…you had to meddle, didn't you? I didn't want it to end like this, but you forced me"

"You never gave me credit for anything, Therese," Jeanette fired back. "I was the one calling the shots. Bertram was dancing on my leash. How does it feel to know that I beat you?"

"What's going on?" Rhoslyn finally cut in.

"Isn't it obvious?" Therese said. "I'm about to rid the night of this deviant, backstabbing whore. Do you realize that despite her condition, she still…fornicates with kine, no less! So despicable, so unclean."

Rhoslyn frowned, liking Therese less every second.

"You're one to talk, dear sister," Jeanette cut in sweetly. "Or should I say daddy's little girl? Do you want to know just how depraved the baron of Santa Monica can be?"

_'Not particularly,' _Rhoslyn thought.

"Shut up, Jeanette," Therese hissed.

Jeanette continued undaunted, "You'd love the world to think you're a saint…When you thought I was asleep, I used to hear father coming in at night. I heard him whisper how much he loved you in your ear before he…"

"Don't finish that sentence or you're dead," Therese warned.

Rhoslyn narrowed her eyes. "Go on, Jeanette."

"…had his way with you," Jeanette finished. "And he didn't have to force you, you went limp and became his plaything. Do you think I didn't hear it, night after night? Always the obedient daughter…until…"

"Shut up! Just shut up!" Therese cried.

"Go on, Jeanette," Rhoslyn said, stepping closer to 'them'.

"Would you like to tell the story?" Jeanette said to Therese, before addressing Rhoslyn again. "She makes herself out to be the virgin queen of the night. Pious as a nun, stable as the Earth's orbit. But it's all an act, isn't it?"

"I'm the good girl," Therese protested. "You're the wicked one. You've done nothing but plot against me when I had our best interests at heart. And despite that, I've always covered up your mistakes. I've taken care of you. And this is how you repay me?"

"Taken care of me?" Jeanette repeated incredulously. "You've done nothing but keep me down, blamed me for every mistake. Did you expect me to let you rule my life until the end of time? No, sister, you've had it coming since our last sunrise."

"Is that right, dear?" Therese said, suddenly mocking again. "If it wasn't for me, you would have never survived this long. Remember? They tried to separate us, but I refused. I chose this life and brought you into it so that we could stay together. Obviously, you've forgotten."

"That doesn't give you the right to tell her what to do," Rhoslyn said. "I understand that you may have helped her, but that doesn't mean you own her."

"She's a control freak," Jeanette blurted. "People, things, emotions – and if she can't control something, she gets rid of it."

"And you're a wild animal," Therese threw back. "You'll rub up anything that'll take you in for the night, then, when you're stuffed and bored, you bite the hand that fed you."

Rhoslyn frowned. Perhaps Therese had a point, but promiscuity bothered her less than genuine malice did, so she knew whose side she was on.

"You're right about one thing, Jeanette," she finally said. "Therese did try to have me killed."

"She did," Jeanette confirmed. "And she'll never let you live. You've disappointed her. I used you, yes, but I didn't try to have you killed. Therese has no problem with killing, do you? Remember father?"

"Father loved me," Therese said. "I was a good girl. I always did what I was told. You always hated that he loved me. You disobeyed him. You brought men home when he wasn't there. You were an awful daughter to him."

"What happened to your father, Jeanette?" Rhoslyn asked, already having a good idea.

"Father came home drunk one day and mistook me for Therese," Jeanette began. "Because I'd fallen asleep in her bed."

"Don't listen to her. She's lying," Therese said, suddenly seeming nervous.

"Therese walked in while he was there and saw me lying with him," Jeanette continued. "And so, she went to the closet and she pulled out his hunting shotgun, loaded it with deershot and blew his mind out all over the silly clown wallpaper."

"That's a lie," Therese cried. "Father killed himself because of Jeanette. She made him miserable."

"As I recall, he died with a smile on his face," Jeanette said sweetly.

Rhoslyn winced at that remark, but said, "I can't believe you killed your own father, Therese."

"The police sure did," Jeanette said before Therese could speak. "They broke us up for a little while, remember? The first thing you did after your escape was find me."

"Enough," Therese cried. "Don't say another word about that."

"So, sweet sister, is this how it has to end?" Jeanette asked, looking somewhat sad. "I admit that I always knew this night might come. Well…any message you want me to give father? An apology? A love letter?"

Rhoslyn's eyes widened as Therese lifted the gun. Feeling very odd saying it, she said, "Grab the gun, Jeanette."

A struggle between the two sisters ensued, a struggle that ended when the gun went off and shot the schizophrenic vampire in the chest. Her head lifted and when she met Rhoslyn's eyes, it was Jeanette.

"I killed her," Jeanette said. "I didn't want her to go…I only wanted her to change. You understand, don't you? Poor, poor Therese." She looked and sounded like she was going to cry.

"You did what you had to do," Rhoslyn said, finally daring to approach. "She made you do it."

"I suppose so," Jeanette said, sniffling for a moment as Rhoslyn gently rubbed her back. "Thank you."

Rhoslyn merely smiled and nodded.

"You wanted to find Bertram," Jeanette finally said, pulling herself together. "He's at the old gas station in an empty oil tank. He'll help you because I'll ask him to. But you must keep your tongue tied tight about what happened this night, understand?"

"I understand," Rhoslyn nodded. "Goodbye."

"Don't hesitate to come see me once in a while," Jeanette urged. "I'm gonna be so lonely without Therese. I mean, I may need someone like you, sometime. And I do get bored so easily. Maybe you could come by and cheer me up sometime?"

"I'll come back, I promise," Rhoslyn said, and she meant it.

* * *

The Nosferatu inside the round oil tank looked up as she entered, not seeming at all surprised to see her. Rhoslyn, who had never seen a Nosferatu before, was startled by his appearance. Beauty is subjective. What is attractive to one, could be entirely unattractive to another. This man, however, was beyond unattractive. He was…well, hideous.

"Are you Bertram Tung?" she asked.

"The one and only," the man said. "But don't bother with the introductions, fledgling. I know who you are."

"You do?" Rhoslyn asked.

"News travels down the Kindred grapevine like wildfire and that courtroom spat between LaCroix and Nines Rodriguez is a juice little morsel. And you in the middle," Bertram said, smiling to reveal a mouthful of very sharp-looking teeth. "How interesting."

"I see," she said, before quickly changing the subject, "So you know I need to get to that warehouse…"

"I've been watching the place. The Sabbat has a bunch of lowlife humans working day and night to move stuff through there…There's some major staging going on."

"Just humans?" she asked.

"As far as I can tell. The humans seem to know the score from the way they've been talking. I think most of them have aspirations of joining the next graduating class of shovelheads. Losers."

"Can you get in there without being detected?" she asked.

"Yes I can," Bertram nodded. "Just tell me when you're ready and we'll leave. Once you're there, however, you're on your own. You'll have to get into the place and plant the explosives in the middle office to take the whole structure down."

"I have to do a few things first," she said.

"Hm, alright," Bertram said, narrowing his eyes. "Come back when you're ready to go, but don't be too long, fledgling; this isn't something we planned around _your_ schedule."

Rhoslyn narrowed her eyes as well. "I'm not slowing things down for my own amusement, you know. I only need to get the explosives."

"You don't have them with you?" Bertram asked.

"Of course not," she frowned. "Would you walk around with two large bottles of liquid explosives stuffed down _your_ pants?"

"Well, where did you put them?" Bertram said, raising his voice.

"Somewhere safe," Rhoslyn snapped back, before turning on her heel and heading for the opening.

"Damn uppity Ventrue," she heard the Nosferatu mutter as she walked out.

As Rhoslyn made her way back to her apartment, she began to feel slightly ashamed of her childish behaviour, but only slightly. He did have an attitude to match hers, after all.

It wasn't entirely true that she only needed to get the Astrolite. For some reason, she felt the need to check up on Mercurio. She liked him and that was the main reason she wanted to see if he was alright, but somewhere in the back of her mind, she remembered what Rosa had told her about the people she could trust. _'The man on the couch.' _Maybe it was Mercurio.

When she entered his apartment, Mercurio was in a far better state than he had been in. His wounds were clean and he had changed his clothes, she found him lounging on his couch, obviously still healing. Once she was certain he'd be alright, she left again.

She then went to her apartment where she dumped the contents of her bag on the desk. She grabbed a towel from the bathroom and placed it on the bottom of her bag. She then placed the liquid explosives on top of the towel. She put another towel on top of it. She put her lockpick in a side pocket and her wallet, her two remaining bloodpacks and her .38 on top of the towel.

She left her make-up purse, tissue dispenser, pepper spray, the card from the Regent and the knife on her desk. Crumb's driver's license she dumped in the trashcan. Poor guy had no use for it anymore.

She checked her email and found that there was an email from LaCroix there.

_'Your assistance was much appreciated in regards to the werewolf blood. Please find your payment in the mailbox, if you haven't already done so. – SL.'_

On her way out, she retrieved $150 from her mailbox and she smiled as she put it in her wallet. She now had over a thousand dollars. She had never had that much money in her wallet before. She slowly made her way back to Bertram. She was careful not to bump into anything or anyone, careful to the point of paranoia. When she finally made it to the oil tank, Bertram was already waiting for her.

"Got the explosives?" Bertram asked as she walked in.

"No," she sneered, surprising herself. "I always walk like a deranged fool."

The Nosferatu hmphed and folded his arms over his chest. "I take it you're _finally_ ready to go."

"Yes," she ground out. "And I'm about ready to get away from you as well."

One very tense trip later and Rhoslyn was standing inside a building that was no more than a ruin. Bertram had explained that the warehouse was close-by but that was all he had said. She sighed irritably as she made her way into the building proper, snapping the neck of an unsuspecting human on the way. She swallowed hard and choked back the bile that rose in her throat. _'There's no other way,' _she thought firmly to herself.

The next room she went into had once consisted of four offices, now only the beams of the partitions still stood. She explored the place thoroughly, snapping the neck of another human, who was having a smoke. She found another shotgun in a box in the open area behind the building. She decided to leave it. She had no way of carrying it with her, not a comfortable, safe way at least.

Outside she ran into a bum, who was warming his hands near a barrel that was on fire, but they ignored eachother. She slowly and silently made her way down a wooden board and overheard a conversation between two hoodlums. Apparently there was a shipment coming in and someone called Marcus was tense about something. Something was going down, one of them said.

_'Yeah,' _Rhoslyn thought wryly. _'Something is going down alright. Or up.'_

She killed both men, using trance on one to keep him busy while she killed the other. She fed on the remaining thug, surprised when the blood stayed down. She emptied the gun the first had dropped for the bullets but left the tire iron the other had dropped. She didn't have the space or the inclination to take it.

She moved on, veering left when she saw something that drew her attention, an old locomotive. She walked around it, climbing up a ladder and winding up in what looked to be an attic. She climbed through a grate and wound up in the rafters of the warehouse she would be blowing up.

She quietly made her way down from the rafters, miraculously avoiding being seen by anyone. She used a combination of sneaking and brute violence to clear the entire warehouse of thugs, all of them human. She then went into the offices. She planted the explosives in the middle office, like Tung had told her to. Then she ran like hell.

A Sabbat came crashing through the door as she rushed down the stairs. She kicked it aside and kept on running, the vampire right on her tail. When she came to the door just beyond the catwalk, she heard the vampire behind her lunge. She turned just as he jumped and they both tumbled to the ground.

His claws tore at her face and neck and if she had been a second slower, he would have killed her. As it was, she tore his head off. She shakily got up, wobbly running to the door. She barely made it far away enough to avoid the explosion.

She slowly walked up the board again. The bum was still standing there, though he was now staring at where the explosion had taken place. Rhoslyn barely saw him. She was startled by the sound of howling and the sound of animal feet running across metal.

She watched numbly as what appeared to be a wolf landed in front of her, and felt her insides go cold when it turned into a man.

"The warehouse," the man said. "Your handiwork, I presume?"

Rhoslyn studied the man before her. He was bespectacled and looked respectable, but was obviously a vampire. She didn't know what clan. His voice was sophisticated, yet different, almost lazy.

She thought about denying having anything to do with the warehouse explosion, but in the end simply couldn't find the energy and nodded.

"Hopefully no Sabbat saw you escape, they can be somewhat…antagonistic," the man said.

Rhoslyn ran a hand over her face and winced when it came away with blood.

"No kidding," she said. "I don't mean to be rude, but who are you? Have you been following me?"

"I see my reputation, for once, does not precede me. My name is Beckett," he introduced. "I haven't been following you per say. We've just coincidentally been at the same places at the same time for different reasons. So sorry if I unnerved you."

Rhoslyn chuckled dryly. "It may seem strange for me to say this since I'm a rookie and all, but it takes more than that to unnerve me."

"I see," Beckett said, studying her. "I take it that means you've been privy to many a strange thing since your embrace."

She thought of the ghosts at the Ocean House Hotel, Jeanette and her 'sister' Therese and the thinbloods at the beach, who were vampires, but not really vampires.

In the end she merely said, "Everything since my embrace has been strange. Why?"

"Most of my contacts here report sensing something unusual in the night air," Beckett explained. "Like a sense of dread or pressure. But I'm not native to these parts, so I can't tell if it's irregular – and since you're still fresh, perhaps you're not attuned to it." Becket studied her for a long moment before continuing, "Pleasure meeting your acquaintance, but there are rumblings for me to discredit. We shall, I'm certain, meet again. Or never again. Goodnight, young one…and be careful, you're very likely being hunted by the Sabbat."

"Night…Beckett," Rhoslyn said as she watched him go.

She met up with Bertram again. He told her to be quiet.

"We'll talk later," he said. "Right now we need to get the hell out of here before the Sabbat find out we're still here."

They went back to Santa Monica. Once inside Bertram's oil tank, he turned to her and smirked.

"Nice work, cupcake. I felt that explosion a mile away. It's all over the news too. Man, there's gotta be some pissed off Sabbat just howling for blood tonight, hehehe."

Rhoslyn winced at that. Howling for blood was right, her blood. She was determined, however, not to show how much his words had affected her.

"Do you know someone named Beckett?" she asked.

"Beckett?" Bertram repeated. "I know _of _him. Why?"

"I heard he was in town," she said noncommittally.

"No kidding. Hmph, must be something major happening if _he's_ in town," Bertram said. "Beckett is a historian of sorts. He's unearthed more vampire lore than anyone. That's all Beckett does; seek the truth behind our…condition."

Rhoslyn nodded. "Right, I'm heading out."

"You better get back downtown," Betram said. "Prince LaCroix is gonna wanna hear all about this victory."

Rhoslyn headed for the exit. Feeling the need to get in one last shot, she turned at the opening and said, "I met your ghoul, Knox."

"I know ya did," Bertram was quick to say. "Sharp kid; can track like a bloodhound. I watched him work for a while before I approached him. I had no idea how…eager he would be to help."

Rhoslyn smiled, that sounded like Knox alright. "You knew I did, huh?"

"I knew you would help him. I had him watching you-know-who for me; it was inevitable you'd pass through her joint. I told him to keep an eye out for you, gave him lines to feed you, the whole bit."

"So he told me," Rhoslyn said.

"What?" Bertram said, all but yelling.

"Though he wasn't as proud of it as you seem to be," she added.

"Ah shit," Bertram scowled, folding his arms over his chest.

"Don't get me wrong, I like Knox and he may well be a great tracker," Rhoslyn said, meaning it. "But he's an extremely lousy liar."

"Damn Ventrue blood," Bertram swore. "Gotta be on top of everything, don't you?"

"Don't worry, I did it anyway," she said sweetly.

"Thanks. You helped me get rid of a spy without revealing myself…or getting my hands dirty," Bertram said, sounding like every word hurt.

"You're welcome." Rhoslyn smiled as she walked out, her smile widening when she heard Bertram mutter about Ventrue some more. That had been fun. She sobered quickly when she saw the cab standing near the Asylum. Going to see LaCroix would _not _be fun, but it would have to be done.

She went back to her apartment to pick up the stuff she had left behind. Before entering the building she noticed that the man she had fed off a few times was now gone.

_'Too bad,' _she mused to herself. _'He tasted good.'_

She turned the tv on before putting the two towels back in the bathroom and retrieving her stuff. While she put her things back she watched the news and nearly fell over when she heard the so-called 'failed burglary' at the Surfside diner and the explosion at the warehouse being reported. She was in the news.

She shook her head as she turned off the tv and checked her email before leaving. There was one new email. It was from 'a friend', probably the same friend who had sent her the first one. It said, 'The white king moves to protect his pawn.' She frowned, some friend if all he was going to give her was riddles. She finished repacking her bag and left the room. She checked on Mercurio. He wasn't there and Rhoslyn fervently hoped that he was alright.

She made her way back to where she had seen the cab. She didn't know how or why but she knew that he was there for her and nobody else, so she knew he'd still be there. She'd go downtown and she'd tell LaCroix that she had done what she was supposed to. Then she'd be free.


	6. Chapter 6

**_Chapter 6: _**

Never again would Rhoslyn exit a cab without looking around her. She'd be forever careful. She swore it to herself after getting out of this particular cab had resulted in her receiving a terrible blow to the back of her head. Everything went black. For a long moment there was nothing but darkness until she became aware of voices.

"Let's drain her."

"Let's stake her and leave her out for the sunrise."

"We're going to have a lot of fun with this one," a third voice said and finally Rhoslyn could see.

Standing over her were three Sabbat. They had to be. Wild and feral, they looked ready, willing and able to kill her and panic seized her when she realized they probably would.

"Think you could blow up our warehouse and get away with it? Huh? Bitch!" the obvious leader spat.

One of his lackeys laughed. "Let's pull out her eyes, and her tongue, and her teeth."

"I want her teeth," the leader snarled.

Rhoslyn tried to crawl back but was stopped when one of them stomped on her chest while the leader swore, "Camarilla fuck."

The world went dim around her and she only became aware of her surroundings again when a strangely familiar voice said, "Trouble sure seems to like you."

Rhoslyn struggled to open her eyes, trying to sit up at the same time.

"Good effort," she heard him say and for a moment she thought he was talking to her. Then she heard a gun-shot and he said, "Execution needs a little work."

She heard footsteps draw near and the same familiar voice say, "You look like shit."

A hand entered her field of vision and she realized he was offering to help her up. She placed her hand in his and found herself on her feet a second later. She wobbled slightly but stayed on her feet. She blearily looked at the man in front of her, her vision already starting to clear.

"Name's Nines," the man said.

For a moment her mind drew a blank, then she finally remembered who he was. "Thanks for the help," she said, before adding, "Again."

"Should've been more careful, newbie," he said, though his words weren't harsh. "This ain't the burbs."

"I'll remember that," she said, and she would.

"You do that. Me, I got things to deal with," Nines said. "Why don't you pay me a visit at the Last Round tonight. I don't know what you've heard so far, but it's time you heard the real story."

Rhoslyn remembered that Jack had said to come see him at the Last Round, so she nodded with a smile.

"This is a mean existence," Nines said as he began to walk away. "Stay outta trouble, kid."

She looked after him, rubbing at the still present, albeit rapidly disappearing, ache in the back of her head. _'Yeah,' _she thought. _'I'll stay outta trouble. If trouble doesn't stalk me like it has so far.'_

* * *

By the time, Rhoslyn made her way into the building that housed LaCroix, Venture tower - or was that Ventrue tower? - she was feeling fine. Until she saw who was sitting at the frontdesk that was. The rather portly guard from Gallery Noir.

"You, uh, look familiar, missy," he said. "We've met before, haven't we? Yeah, uh, back in Santa Monica, right? I don't know what came over me back there, but now I got this sweet night shift position, and I'm happier than the time I met Sipowicz. Ah, well, enough about my lucky break! You uh…here to see one of the bigwigs, missy?"

"Yes," Rhoslyn confirmed. "I'm here to see LaCroix."

"Would that be Sebastian LaCroix of the LaCroix Foundation, or Dwayne LaCroix of Insurrection Baby Formula Company," he asked.

_'There's more than one LaCroix?' _Rhoslyn thought, suppressing a shudder. "Sebastian LaCroix."

"Uh, okay then. Mr. LaCroix, he told me to expect someone fitting your description sometime tonight- you go right on up."

"Thank you," she said.

"Yeah, uh, you have a good power meeting or whatever it is you types do up there. You need any security, why you just ring the front desk and ask for Officer Chunk. That's me, case you were wondering."

Rhoslyn stared at him for a second, before smiling slightly and nodding. "I'll remember that."

She made her way to the elevator, which opened without her having to press the button, and pressed the Penthouse button. That's where LaCroix was bound to be. _'Freedom, here I come.'_

Rhoslyn looked up at the massive form of the Sheriff and he stared back, neither of them blinking. He was an interesting breed of vampire, she mused. Fierce, powerful and primal, not to mention intimidating. Not attractive, but compelling. She wondered what clan he was from. Certainly not one she knew of. She gave him a respectful nod but there was no response.

She then turned to LaCroix and her mood went sour. She supposed he was entitled to at least some respect since he was an elder, she assumed, and something of a leader, to some anyway. The impression the man made on her, however, left a lot to be desired. He came across as a gutless coward, who hid behind his rules and regulations, and, if things got really tough, his Sheriff. LaCroix, in the mean time, seemed to be waiting for her to finish her inspection of him. When she appeared to be done, he spoke up.

"Do I pass inspection?" he asked.

She opened her mouth to say 'No, but you'll have to do' but after glancing at the Sheriff thought better of it, and settled for a vague shrug. A strange smile appeared on LaCroix's face. It seemed both annoyed and amused at the same time.

* * *

Sebastian LaCroix was a man of habit. Nearly two hundred years of living had instilled in him a need for routine. He went to the same places, met with the same people, dealt with the same problems, and yes, doled out the same punishments. All this, year in, year out.

When things happened that were out of the ordinary, things that didn't fit his routine, he became uncomfortable, out of sorts almost. There were events that could make him feel that discomfort, and there were people that could do the same. One such individual now stood before him.

It wasn't her physical stature, he could conclude that right away. She wasn't tall, or broad for that matter, and, though he knew it made no difference, she had no visible muscles. No, it had nothing to do with her form.

It was something inside of her, something that went against everything her clan - their clan - stood for. It was something that he sensed in the likes of Nines Rodriguez as well, though it was stronger in the Brujah. LaCroix didn't know exactly what it was and, if possible, that made him even more uncomfortable.

For a chilling moment LaCroix felt in the deepest part of him that he had made a big mistake in letting this young fledgling live. Then the feeling was gone and he dismissed it immediately. She was no threat to him. Nor would she ever be. He forced himself to shake these thoughts and focus on the matter at hand. There were important things to discuss.

"Since you're here, I'll take the liberty of assuming you destroyed the warehouse, this is correct, yes?"

The kindred before him nodded, still not speaking, and inexplicably, LaCroix felt the need to hear her speak. He had not heard her say a word when he had met her first. What would her voice sound like? Would it be a rich and smooth voice? The Ventrue were a noble and honourable breed of vampire after all. Or would she be able to produce no more than an animalistic growl? He had heard of vampires going feral after losing their sire. He would find out.

"I trust you encountered no impediments to your progress on account of my personnel?" he asked.

As if sensing what he wanted, and taunting him, she still didn't speak and merely shook her head. LaCroix found himself scowling. Who did she think she was dealing with?

* * *

Rhoslyn smirked to herself as she saw the scowl appear. It seemed the cool and collected prince of the Camarilla had himself a bit of a temper. _'I didn't realize the pretty prince had it in him.'_ He soon composed himself and the scowl disappeared, but she had seen enough.

_'I wonder how many buttons I can push before he sends the Sheriff my way.' _Glancing once more at the impressive form of said Sheriff, she decided she didn't want to know.

"No, no…impediments whatsoever," she said.

"That is the answer I like to hear. You've done well-circumstances being what they were. I will admit, not many in your position would have overcome such a trial…but don't misunderstand me, it was no fool's errand," LaCroix said. He continued after a short silence during which he sized her up. "You may yet prove to be a genuine asset. It's disturbing the lack of talent within this organization as of late. Tell me, what would you say to doing a bit of reconnaisance for me?"

Rhoslyn froze. More chores? She thought she had repaid her debt, she thought she was done with him and the rest of his 'organization'. She opened her mouth to tell him that she had done what he had told her to do and wasn't doing anything else, but the combination of the look on LaCroix's face and the scowl on the Sheriff's told her that such things would not be appreciated, or tolerated.

She swallowed her pride and ignored her screaming instincts. "What exactly do I have to do?" she said, stressing the words 'have to', making sure he knew she wasn't happy. If he heard her inflection, he showed no sign of it.

"There have been whispers, rumors spreading around the Kindred community concerning the Elizabeth Dane, the cargo ship that was towed into port recently. Have you heard of it?" LaCroix asked. She hadn't but it made no different. LaCroix continued before she could speak, "The police are investigating the Dane as we speak. Even the Nosferatu have little information on what's been found, however, the reason the ship has caused such speculation is because it was transporting an object called the Ankaran Sarcophagus.

Now, I'm not one to predicate a decision based on conjecture, so what I need is fact – and more importantly, I need evidence that the occurences on the Dane were not supernatural in nature and in no way related to this Ankaran Sarcophagus."

"What do you need me to do?" Rhoslyn asked, liking this less and less every second.

"You have three objectives. One, I want you to examine the Sarcophagus for anything unusual – you may sense something peculiar about the Sarcophagus – in fact, many Kindred in the city have reported an uneasiness in the air since the Dane's arrival. Do not, under any circumstances, open the Ankaran Sarcophagus.

"Secondly – the police have begun their investigation. Find out what they have concluded thus far. Thirdly – take the cargo manifest for the ship. I want to find out what else it was carrying. The last thing we want is police aware of our existence – so be careful what you do in front of them. And unlike the warehouse, you cannot wholesale slaughter a ship full of lawmen without consequences. Is this understood?"

Rhoslyn nodded tersely, taking the obvious criticism on the chin without comment or protest.

"Good. Oh, and it has come to my attention that you had an encounter with Nines Rodriguez earlier. The man so does love to throw that cretinous charm of his brashly about."

At least he has charm, Rhoslyn wanted to say – or rather, shout – but she kept quiet.

"What exactly did mr. Rodriguez say?" LaCroix asked.

"He asked me to visit him at the Last Round," Rhoslyn simply said.

"I see. Then you should go humor the by-the-number rhetoric he's so desperately aching to spew. Please, before the chants of 'fascist oppressor' from that dive of theirs clog the air and choke the local kine."

Rhoslyn suppressed a scowl and simply said, "Fine."

"Give the anarch community my regards," LaCroix mocked before gesturing that she was dismissed.

It was all Rhoslyn could do to stop herself from lunging at the man. It would be foolish, and no doubt it would be the last thing she ever did, but it was tempting. If only to see the look of shock on his face.

* * *

The Last Round, the bus map told her, wasn't that far away and it looked just about the way she had expected it to. Small but functional. Not grand and pompous like LaCroix. Maybe she was biased, but she much preferred small but functional.

She stepped into the bar and was greeted by loud music. She looked around and saw that there one man standing behind the bar, a patron at the bar and a tough looking woman standing in a door opening. She saw the stairs and headed for them, maybe Nines would be up there.

"Sabbat chase you in here, Cammy?" the woman said as Rhoslyn passed her.

Rhoslyn stopped and turned to the red haired vampire.

"What?" Rhoslyn asked simply.

The woman scoffed. "Heard Nines saved your ass again. You think LaCroix would've stopped counting his money long enough to get your back, jack?"

"What the hell's your problem?" Rhoslyn asked, scowling at her, tired of this woman already.

"Oh, ho, ho," the woman scowled. "You want to know what my problem is? Alright, I'll tell you what my problem is, you ready? YOU are my goddamn problem. Anyone who would lay it down for some cape in an ivory tower deserves what they get."

"Right," Rhoslyn scoffed. "Like I have a choice."

"You do have a choice," the woman said emphatically. "Being here, that's a step in the right direction. I'm Damsel – den mother of these mothers and one pissed bitch since LaCroix rolled in."

"Yeah? Well, news flash, Damsel, you're not the only pissed off bitch because of LaCroix," Rhoslyn spat.

She turned away and went to head up the stairs but Damsel's hand on her arm stopped her.

"Hey, Cammy…" Damsel began, before sighing exasperatedly. "I don't apologize often, but it's just with all the shit's been going down lately…and on top of it this plaguebearer getting the CDC's attention…maybe I misjudged you's all I'm saying."

Rhoslyn nodded, before asking, "What's a plaguebearer?"

"A plaguebearer's a fool that doesn't care who they feed from. Yeah, I know what you're thinking, we can't get sick, but the kine can, and Kindred that feed on them start spreading disease. Enough get sick – it's an epidemic – CDC's in town as we speak."

"So how do you get rid of one?" Rhoslyn asked.

"Seen 'Old Yeller'? May sound cruel but it's necessary. If someone puts together two and two as to the cause of an outbreak of blood borne diseases – guess what happens? So, the plaguebearer's got to be found and put down. If the Camarilla really gives a damn, they'll help us out."

"I am not Camarilla, nor will I ever be," Rhoslyn said firmly.

The two women stared at eachother for a long moment until Damsel nodded thoughtfully.

"Where do I start?" Rhoslyn asked.

"One of our boys' ghouls, name's Paul, lives nearby in the Skyline apartment. Been a stranger lately. Looked like death last time he was here. Said he didn't get bit but maybe you can get more info out of him."

"I'll go check it out," Rhoslyn said, heading for the stairs again.

"Wait," Damsel called. "If Paul's not talking, you might want to start questioning the homeless pop. So many have been dying lately that it takes the city a few days to pick up the bodies."

"I'll do that," Rhoslyn nodded, before finally going up the stairs.

Upon reaching the top of the stairs she was accosted by a black man.

"Well, if it ain't the talk of the town; poster child for Camarilla benevolence. What does the prince have his little bitch doin' today?"

Rhoslyn scowled at the man but merely said, "Funny. I'm here for Nines Rodriguez?"

"Nines is expecting you. Have some manners and don't wear out your welcome. I'm Skelter. Act up again and I'll be the one showing your ashes to the door."

"Right. I'll remember that." Rhoslyn spotted Nines standing nearby and she stepped over to him.

"You showed up. Good. Here's what I've got to tell you – and so you know I don't lecture, I don't rap, I'm no bureaucrat. I'm just a guy out of nowhere came to be involved in something five-hundred times bigger than you and me."

"Go on," Rhoslyn nodded.

"You got a right to know the score. The Camarilla – this is the short of it. They operate a lot like a pyramid scheme. There's a bunch of these old timers at the top, with God only knows what plots in mind. They lose their power, they die. They sired more to carry out their plans, and looking for a little power, then those Kindred sired for their own schemes and so on, on and on – it hurts my head just thinking about the mess. What it works out to is this, only a few people at the top have any real power."

"Isn't the prince the leader of the Camarilla?" Rhoslyn asked.

"LaCroix? Shit…LaCroix's just the guy who backstabbed and wheeled-and-dealed his way into becoming king son of a bitch of all the local Camarilla," Nines spat. "Him and any of the traitors that sided with the Cam want power here, they'll get what's due."

"So what are you all about?" Rhoslyn asked.

"I learned the way of this world during the depression. Bunch of old, rich bastards screwed the country, but did they suffer? No, the little people suffered. You can't trust the people at the top. The world'd be a better place without them," Nines said. By now, Rhoslyn was nodding in agreement, so he continued, "All you can do is get a group of people together who aren't assholes, find a place to put your feet up and make some examples of the quote unquote elite to keep the rest the hell out. Everyone's an equal here, the same thing this country used to be about. That's what L.A. has been, an Anarch Free State."

"So the Camarilla is new to L.A.?" Rhoslyn asked.

"The Camarilla was kicked out on their ass a long time ago. We, the anarchs, didn't want to play their politics anymore. Now, LaCroix and crew pop in like they never left. Nuh-uh," Nines said, shaking his head. "No goddamn way. They laws don't apply to us."

"Not a fan of the prince, huh?" Rhoslyn asked with a small smile, knowing the answer.

"LaCroix represents everything I hate – the Camarilla, stuck-up aristocrats, rich businessmen, crooked politicians – the only place LaCroix belongs is in an urn."

"Have you tried meeting with the Camarilla?" Rhoslyn asked, though she knew the answer to that as well.

"I got their meeting right here," Nines said, making rather a rude gesture.

Rhoslyn nodded, she couldn't blame him. "Any advice you can give me?" she asked, looking around for Jack.

"Here's what I tell all the new blood – one, you get careless, that blood'll make you into a monster, but you rampage 'round here, you get put down. Two, don't kill when you feed, no reason to. In this city, there's a lot of ways to slake the beast without leaving a trail of dead. Three, the Camarilla's full of shit. Four, watch your back, always. And lastly, learn how to fight, 'cause a speech ain't going to save your ass when you're staring down the barrel of a shotgun."

"Thanks for the help, Nines," Rhoslyn said sincerely.

"L.A.'s the school of hard knocks," Nines said, heading for the stairs. "So keep your friends close and your enemies in a barbecue pit. Once you square things with LaCroix, don't give that son-of-a-bitch the time of night. I got my eye on you kid."

He disappeared down the stairs and Rhoslyn looked around again. She found Jack sitting at a table around the corner. He looked genuinely pleased to see her, though not surprised. He had probably heard the entire conversation between her and Nines.

"Jack," she said with a smile.

"Well, well, looky who made it back in one piece," Jack grinned, gesturing for her to sit down next to him. "How was Santa Monica, kiddo?"

"I wouldn't really know, I didn't get to do much sight seeing," Rhoslyn said, sitting down.

Jack laughed. "I can't imagine you did. Probably too busy being pushed around by every vampire with a week of a seniority over you, am I right?"

"I'm afraid so," Rhoslyn said.

"That's usually the way the story goes. Same old bull-shit politics from when you were alive, huh? Don't it make you just wanna ripe somebody's spine out?" Jack said. Rhoslyn raised her eyebrows at him, though she was smiling, and Jack shrugged. "What? You saying that's just me?"

He laughed and Rhoslyn chuckled.

"I ran into Nines," she said after a moment.

"Yeah, I heard," Jack nodded. "I also heard that wasn't the first time you've run into him tonight. He said you guys let those Sabbat go too." Jack tsked. "Nines must be getting soft. How can you pass up that kind of fun?"

She smiled, before sobering and asking, "How come he keeps helping me?"

Jack frowned. "Well, he was left sireless too, I dunno," he said. "Maybe that's it. He's got a thing for the little guy, or girl I should say."

Rhoslyn nodded, sitting in thoughtful silence for a moment before asking, "Why do you think LaCroix sent me to Santa Monica?"

"Politics; the stuff that makes the rich get richer, keeps the powerful in power. Look at why you were out in Santa Monica in the first place; cuz prince LaCroix said so." The last words were mocking.

"Alright, but why me?" she asked. "Why not send somebody better equipped to deal with it?"

"Cuz he never thought you'd make it back. If Nines didn't stand up for you in the courtroom you woulda been toast right there, sweetheart; everybody knows that."

"Why did he want to kill me?" Rhoslyn frowned. "I don't remember doing anything to deserve that."

"You didn't," Jack assured her. "It's bullshit Camarilla law; you gotta get it approved before you sire anyone. Vampire population control. Fascist crap. LaCroix wanted to look like a strong leader, upholding the law."

Rhoslyn was silent for a long while, a frown on her face. A frown that deepened as she absorbed what Jack just told her. That bastard. That unspeakable bastard. She had known that LaCroix had killed her Andrew, she had known that he was responsible for her being left alone, but this?

"Kid?" Jack questioned softly.

"He killed Andrew for nothing?" she asked. "He killed him because he wanted to look good?"

Jack said nothing, he didn't need to. Rhoslyn's hatred of LaCroix deepened, swirling deep inside her soul. She would make him pay for what he did. She would do his bidding for now, but her day would come. She didn't know how, she didn't know when, but it would come.

After another long moment, she said, "Why am I still alive?"

"Public relations, kid. 'Calculated risk'. Ventrue are born in a boardroom, no offense. When Nines called him out, LaCroix realized it was time to show a carefully measured dose of Camarilla compassion," Jack said, all but spitting out the last two words.

"You're not into 'public relations', Jack?" Rhoslyn asked, smiling weakly.

"Sure I am, it's called kicking ass and crushing the skulls of any asshole who steps on my toes. That seems to work. People dig it."

"Unless they happen to be on the receiving end I'm guessing," Rhoslyn said, her smile more genuine now.

Jack grinned, clamping his cigar between his teeth. They continued to talk for a long time. Jack had a good time listening to the tale of what she had done in the warehouse and just about died laughing when she told him about her misadventures at the Ocean House Hotel. She also told him about her current quest.

"The sarcophagus," Jack said ominously. "Did LaCroix tell you about the Ankaran Sarcophagus?"

"He told me not to open it, but that's about it."

"Yeah, well, maybe I should fill you in on the details; that sarcophagus is bad news. Kindred around the globe have been going batshit since it was discovered."

"Why?" Rhoslyn asked.

"The word is there's an ancient asleep in there," Jack explained. "One of the fathers. One of the vampires that, if you traced your lineage way back, there's a chance it'd end up with him at the root."

"He was asleep this whole time?" Rhoslyn asked in disbelief.

"Ancients don't just nap. They sleep whole ages away. And when they wake up, they're hungry."

"So, he'll wake up and go hunting?" she asked.

"It's more than that, kiddo. Most Kindred think it's one of the end signs. The apocalypse. Every religion has their own version of it. Kindred call it Gehenna, and the way they tell it, it starts when the ancients rise to devour their children."

"Is this for real?" Rhoslyn asked, swallowing hard at the thought.

"No one knows for sure really," Jack said, leaning back in his chair. "That's just the word that's been handed down through the ages; the Camarilla denies these ancients exist."

"Well, it could all be hearsay," Rhoslyn said, wanting to believe it but not quite able to.

"Well, kiddo. I guess you're gonna be the one to find out," Jack said. He laughed. "Hey, good luck. Try not to wake Grandpa Munster and kill the world." He laughed again.

"No promises," Rhoslyn said, grinning as she got up. "See ya, Jack."

"See ya, kid. Be careful out there," he said, his voice softer now.

Rhoslyn left the Last Round, and though her heart felt heavier now and she felt even worse about her latest quest for LaCroix, she was happy to have seen Jack again. Meeting him again confirmed what she already knew. She liked the guy. And it felt reassuring to know that there was at least one person out there who was on her side.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Okay, so here's chapter 7, albeit a little late. I'm afraid from here, the chapters are going to be later still as I won't be posting every week anymore. On top of not being able to play the game on my own computer anymore, I've also lost my inspiration for it. The simplest reason for this is that I've been working on a lot of other stories and they're taking up all my time and attention. So...yeah, sorry about that. Still, I hope you all enjoy this one.

**_Chapter 7: _**

It was a strange purple glowing cross that drew her to the building she was now entering. The glow had for some reason reminded her of the regent's riddle and she had decided to check it out. Entering it brought her into a small hallway with a staircase leading up.

The door at the top of the stairs being locked, she walked into the hall, taking a right, then a left and another left, very suddenly finding herself standing in front of a set of double doors. Almost like…

"Magic," she whispered as she pushed the doors open.

Inside was a man, bald-headed, bespectacled and not looking the least bit surprised to her.

"Greetings, neonate," the man said in a cultured voice. "Might I assume you received my invitation? I have been looking forward to meeting you for quite some time."

"I got the invitation," Rhoslyn confirmed. "I'm assuming you are…"

"Strauss. Maximillian Strauss," the man introduced. "I am the Regent of this Chantry. Welcome."

"A Regent," she repeated softly. "What is a Regent?"

"A Regent is the leader of a chantry, as well as a teacher to young Tremere apprentices who are studing the mysteries of our clan," Strauss explained.

"I see," she nodded. "And a Chantry?"

"A Chantry is a local gathering place for those of the Tremere clan," he said. "I live here, as do apprentices from time to time."

"I see," she said again. "You wouldn't happen to know what's going on with the whole plaguebearer thing, would you?"

"Let me give you some advice, young one," Strauss said. "Your survival in Kindred society will often depend on your ability to find out yourself what is going on around you. Remember that well…" Rhoslyn nodded mutely and Strauss continued, "As for what is going on here in downtown, the word on everyone's lips, Kindred or Kine, seems to be 'epidemic'."

"So what's going on?" Rhoslyn asked.

"It seems that disease has been spread at an alarming rate throughout the downtown population," he said. "Considering our particular…appetites…the local Kindred are more than concerned about these developments."

"Interesting," she said softly, though it told her nothing she didn't already know.

"Yes, indeed. My opinion is that the local anarchs are responsible for these outbreaks," Strauss expressed. Rhoslyn frowned but he went on, "Their precipitous indulgence of certain passions often leads to such things. Ergo, their need for the watchful eye of the Camarilla."

"You're blaming this on the Anarchs?" she asked in disbelief.

Strauss nodded, studying her carefully.

"And you feel the Camarilla can fix it?" she asked.

"Of course," Strauss said. "The Anarchs have asked you for our help, haven't they?"

She decided to not even ask how he knew that. "I'm not Camarilla."

"I beg your pardon?" he said, seeming taken aback.

"I am not Camarilla," Rhoslyn repeated slowly. "The only reason I'm doing anything for LaCroix is because I have no choice, he is leaving me no choice."

"I see, how very disappointing," Strauss said, his voice sounding slightly strained. "Then I don't believe we have anything more to say to eachother."

"I don't suppose we do," Rhoslyn ground out, already heading for the door.

"You are making a big mistake, neonate," he called after her. "A mistake you may not live to regret."

She ignored him as she stalked back into the hallway. It took her a moment to find her way out and she just knew he did that on purpose. _'Regent my ass,' _she thought furiously. _'He's just another Camarilla bastard.'_

Once she was outside again, she took a moment to calm down. There was no point in letting him rile her up over nothing. So he was Camarilla, big deal. She'd just never go back to his place.

Once she had calmed down she made her way to the Skyline Apartments. The busmap told her it was close to the Empire Hotel, which could be seen from a mile away. The Skyline Apartments were of a better quality than the place she was staying in, but they were far from luxurious. There were six floors in all, each holding one apartment. She checked the mailboxes.

_1: ._

_2: ._

_3: ._

_4: No name._

_5: ._

_6: ._

She took the elevator to the fifth floor. She found a very much dead Paul in his kitchen.

_'No wonder he wasn't coming around the Last Round anymore.'_

She saw that the light on the answering machine was blinking and she pressed the button.

_'Hi, Paul. It's Hannah,' _a woman's voice said. _'Just calling to see how you are. I hope I didn't give you what I've got. I feel like crap. Actually, I need to ask you a favor. Could you pick me up some cold medicine at the store?' _She coughed. _'I hate to bother you, but…I can't seem to get out of bed. The code on my door is 1203. Hey, listen, I uh had a really good time the other night. Maybe we could do it again some time. Sorry, I'm rambling. Okay, bye.'_

_'Well, Hannah,' _Rhoslyn thought grimly. _'Paul won't be picking you up some cold medicine and he certainly won't be 'doing it again some time'.' _Then she felt bad for thinking such a thing. Poor Paul was dead and if he was connected to Hannah, she was probably on her way.

Rhoslyn made her way to the sixth floor and entered Hannah's apartment after tapping in the code. She silently made her way upstairs, entering the bedroom where a very sick Hannah lay.

"Paul?" she called. "Is that…hey! You're not Paul. Who are you? What are you doing in here?"

"I'm a friend of Paul's," Rhoslyn soothed. "He just wanted me to come and check up on you."

"He did?" Hannah asked, coughing weakly. "That's so sweet. He's such a nice guy. Is everything okay with him?"

"He's fine," Rhoslyn lied. Poor Hannah didn't need to know everything. Rhoslyn continued, "You sound pretty sick, Hannah. What have you got?"

"I don't really know," Hannah said. "I…I've taken all kinds of medicine, but I can't seem to get rid of it. I…I feel like I've got a fever and a sore throat. I'm real weak…can't seem to get out of bed…uh, what day is it? I can't remember…"

Rhoslyn kneeled down next to the bed, looking at Hannah with sympathetic eyes.

"That sounds pretty bad," she said softly. "Where did you get it?"

"Well, I think I got sick from one of my clients," Hannah said. "I was feeling fine until I…I uh…I saw her a few days ago."

"Who was she?" Rhoslyn asked.

"She was just a woman who called. She, uh, she found my ad in the newspaper. Usually I only do business with referrals, you know, but she was offering a lot of money."

"What was her name?" Rhoslyn asked softly.

"Her name was Jezebel…Jezebel Locke. I'm usually not too good with names, you know, but hers was so strange. Can't seem to get it out of my head." Hannah coughed, her body shaking so bad, Rhoslyn had to hold her to keep her from falling off the bed. Hannah didn't pull away, needing the comfort.

"Where did you meet her, Hannah?" Rhoslyn asked, rubbing the dying woman's back. "Where is Jezebel Locke?"

"She had a room at the Empire Hotel," Hannah said hoarsely. "I can't remember the number. Hey, are you sure that Paul is okay? He's not sick, is he?"

"Paul's just fine, Hannah. Don't worry about him," Rhoslyn soothed.

"Good. He…he's a nice guy. I hope he calls me again some time," Hannah said, her voice growing faint.

Rhoslyn held her a little tighter. "I'm sure he will, Hannah."

"I hope so, I really do," Hannah said, her body going limp.

"Rest in peace, Hannah," Rhoslyn whispered. "I'll go take care of Jezebel Locke."

She gently rearranged the now deceased woman's limbs, laying her down in a more dignified manner. She cleaned Hannah's face and hands, wiping away the mucus that had landed there. She would make sure that when they found her, they found her clean and peaceful, not ravaged by a disease she had no comprehension of, one she had not deserved.

After having done all she could for Hannah, she quietly left the room and the apartment. She would find Jezebel Locke and she would put an end to the disease spreading.

On her way down to the ground floor she suddenly remembered Muddy. He had said in the answering machine message to Marian Murietta that he was going downtown and would be at the Skyline apartments, 2a. She went to the second floor and got out of the elevator.

She readied her gun and opened the door, ready for anything. She needn't have bothered since the apartment was completely empty. She picked up the two car stereos from the counter and stuffed them in her bag. She could get some more money for those. She saw the blinking light on the answering machine and pressed the button.

_'Mr. Milton, you know who this is and I do hope you realize that we're still on for tonight. Meet me at the agreed upon location, across from the bar by the underpass. Bring your associate, mr. Durbin, as this is a two man job that I am proposing. With any luck the two of you are already on your way and I shall see you soon. Goodbye.'_

Across from the bar by the underpass. Bar as in The Last Round? She would check it out. Upstairs was empty as well. She left the Skyline apartment building and headed for the Empire Hotel. Once inside, she confidently strutted over to the receptionist.

"Yes? May I help you?" he asked politely.

"Yes. Is there a guest here named Jezebel Locke?" Rhoslyn asked.

"Yes. Ms Locke is one of our more, um, popular guests," the man said. "Why do you ask?"

"I need a key to her room," Rhoslyn said boldly.

"I can't do that, miss. It's against hotel policy," the man said.

Rhoslyn nodded understandingly, before ordering, "Give me the key."

The man's eyes went vacant. "I see. Well, in that case, perhaps I can make an exception. Here is the key to her suite. Have a nice evening."

"I will, thank you," Rhoslyn said, accepting the keycard.

She decided to explore the first floor first but found only a gold ring lying on the floor in one of the locked rooms. She was about to head for the elevator when she became aware of a steady ache in her stomach. She hadn't fed in a while. She would need to find somebody.

She made her way to the men's bathroom and waited in the shadows. When a suitable man came in, she snuck up behind him and struck, drinking deeply before releasing him. She exited the bathroom feeling much better and more up to facing whatever it was that listened to the name Jezebel Locke.

* * *

Rhoslyn paused outside room 4 on the fifth floor, putting her bag down next to the door. No one would steal it in such a fancy hotel, at least she hoped not. She used the keycard and slowly pushed the door open, cautiously stepping in. Her senses were immediately assailed by a pungent smell.

_'Disease,' _Rhoslyn thought grimly.

"Oh yeah," she heard a woman say. "Who do we have here? Are you a believer, little morsel? Have you come for the kind of enlightenment that only Jezebel can give?"

"I take it you're Jezebel Locke?" Rhoslyn asked, stepping forward slowly.

Yes, I am Jezebel. And I have such things to show you, little morsel," the woman purred. "Such beautiful, dirty little things. Won't you come into my parlor?"

Rhoslyn could feel the pull of the woman's charms. Maybe it was because she was a Ventrue and thus less susceptible to such things but though she felt the pull, it didn't actually lure her in. She just felt disgust as she looked into the woman's yellow eyes, sickness palpible in the air.

"What the hell have you been doing?" she asked, angry that such beings were allowed to exist.

Annoyance flickered in the woman's eyes when Rhoslyn didn't respond to her charms. "Oh, you cannot escape me, little morsel," she said, ignoring her question. "One way or another, you and I will intertwine our beings on the way into the Ninth Circle. And I will send you forth, full of the sweet sickness I carry."

"Right," Rhoslyn frowned. "I can see this can only end one way."

Jezebel wasted no time in flying at Rhoslyn, intent on carving her up with the knife she now brandished. Rhoslyn sidestepped the attack, and caught hold of the woman's arm. She was surprised when Jezebel's hand broke easily and the knife clattered to the floor. Rhoslyn frowned as she grabbed hold of the woman's head and easily pulled it from her body. She watched in disbelief as she disintegrated in front of her, the fight having taken less than ten seconds.

That was it? That was the plaguebearer? A weak little vampire, possibly a Toreador, who didn't last ten seconds against a rookie Ventrue? Somehow, Rhoslyn felt disappointed. She had expected something of a battle and while an easy battle was always a good thing, she couldn't help but think that maybe Jezebel Locke didn't play such a large part in the plaguebearer problem after all. She picked up the knife and walked out, picking up her bag on her way out. She supposed she'd just go back to Damsel and see what she had to say.

* * *

She walked into The Last Round and headed for Damsel, who was sitting at the bar.

"S'up," Damsel greeted.

"The plaguebearer's dead," Rhoslyn said.

"Good work," Damsel complimented. "Unfortunately we dusted a second one over near the convention center. They're part of some doomsday cult apparently."

"I figured as much," Rhoslyn muttered. Damsel frowned and Rhoslyn explained, "Not about the doomsday cult thing but about there being more. Jezebel Locke was far too easy to kill, she had to be a mere pawn."

Damsel nodded. "No telling how many more there are, but it's open season on all these sons of bitches."

"I'll go look for the rest," Rhoslyn said, heading for the door.

She stepped outside the building and was about to head right when she remembered the message of Milton's machine. The building across from the bar. She walked into the alleyway across from the bar and made her way over to the building that stood there.

The second she entered she could smell what was there. At least one dead body and something else, something more subtle, something animalistic. She headed through the doorway and walked into what appeared to be an old basketball court. She immediately saw that she had been right about the dead body bit. There was a shredded body hanging from a beam, its head missing. There was a man, obviously a bum, crouching nearby.

"D-did y-you see it?" the bum asked shakily.

"What did you see?" Rhoslyn asked as she slowly approached him.

"These two guys – the dead guy and the other'n – th-they showed up. I been living here so I hid, I thought maybe they was owners or cops come to clean the place out."

"Who was the other guy?" she asked with a frown.

"The dead feller called him 'Muddy'," the bum said, still shaking from head to toe.

_'Okay,' _Rhoslyn thought. _'So it's Milton who's dead.'_

"So, this dead guy and Muddy, what were they doing here?" she asked casually.

"They was waiting on someone," the bum said, calming down slightly now that he realized the danger was over. "Gonna do some kind of job they was sayin'. But the person they was meeting, he was late. So the one guy leaves to find a phone and call him and the dead guy stayed. That's when the killer…that's when he showed up."

Rhoslyn said nothing, she figured he would keep on talking if she just let him. She was right.

"One second he wasn't there, then he was," the bum continued. "Like out of the shadows he come up… scared the shit out of the dead guy. I liked ta scream but I couldn't breathe. That killer, he grew these claws, I swear, I saw it. The dead guy went white like he seen the devil, then the killer grabbed him around the neck 'n lifted him up and started cursing at the guy. I couldn't hear what he said too good. Something about revenge for what he did or what they did. The killer made sure the dead guy knew who he was and then ripped him open and just tore him apart. He did it real slow; made the guy scream."

Rhoslyn nodded before focusing on the bum.

"You will forget what you saw here," she commanded. "Leave and don't return."

The bum's eyes went blank and he nodded before walking out. Rhoslyn turned back to where the body hung suspended from the beam. She shuddered, not at all sure if she was interested in finding Muddy anymore. She shook her head as she climbed to the floor above. Looking around she discovered a key to a room at the Luckee Star Hotel.

_'Keep it up, Rhos,' _she thought. _'Keep finding reasons to linger, you'll never get out of this situation at this rate.'_

She knew this to be true, but she couldn't help it. Natural curiosity was making her continue this 'quest' for answers and she would see it through to the end. But for now, she needed to find a place she could sell some of her stuff.

* * *

Finding somebody to buy her stuff turned out to be easier than she had thought. After asking a passerby where she could possibly sell some stuff, she was now looking at a truck that was said to belong to Fat Larry, a peddler of sorts. She walked around the truck and was greeted by a large black man.

"Babygirl – I saw you coming from down the street and I started praying to the Lord to find it in his heart to send you to me and hallelujah if he didn't come through for me," the man said and Rhoslyn couldn't help but smile. "Welcome to Fat Larry's truck of mack. I am the proprietor and salesman of the month several years in a row. The ladies call me 'oh God' but you can call me Fat Larry with a F-A-T 'cause there's more of me to love."

Rhoslyn took his extended hand and smiled when he kissed the top of hers. He certainly had the charisma to be a good salesman. He rubbed the top of her hand with a frown.

"You got cold hands there, little lady," he said. "Ain't your man been keeping you warm at night?"

"I'm sure my man would, if I had one," Rhoslyn said.

"Well now," Larry said, a lecherous grin appearing on his face. "Ain't that a deathsin? Pretty lady like you being all single."

Rhoslyn grinned as well, extracting her hand from his.

"What have you got in the truck, Larry?" she asked.

"Now that is a legitimate question, but a better question would be, what don't I got in this truck," Larry said. "'Cause at Fat Larry's, my motto is 'everything's got a price, but I probably know somebody who can get it anyway'."

Rhoslyn nodded. "So show me what you got."

"Now that's what I like to hear, but it's like this, I save my best stuff for select clientele. Now that don't mean I don't appreciate your bizness, it's just, you know, bizness."

"Show me the merchandise," she said, having to stop herself from using her dominance. It was becoming a habit to use it whenever she wanted something, she'd have to do something about that.

She sold the stuff she didn't need and bought a Brokk 17c and some bullets, as well as clothes that served as armor. She put the gun in her bag, folding the clothes and putting them on top of the gun. When she looked up, she saw Fat Larry was looking at her, a thoughtful look on his face.

"Say now, wonder girl, seeing the kind of commando gear you been stocking up on…you ain't just using that stuff for keeping the neighbors away from your shit, is you?"

"So?" Rhoslyn said, sounding slightly defensive.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, that's your bizness, okay," Fat Larry backpedaled and Rhoslyn wondered if she had used her discipline without knowing it. "I just figured someone with a shopping list like yours might be up for a little action's all, alright?"

"What have you got in mind?" Rhoslyn asked.

"Yo, I need a hardcore, pimp-killin', Cleopatra Jones for a supersized score. Straight up foxy Pam Grier style. Still with me?"

Rhoslyn simply nodded.

"Here's what's going down…I got a tip that the Chinatown Tong and some local boys are meeting on top of a nearby parking garage to carry out a bizness deal. Now I can't tell you what they's exchanging but let's just say a certain client of mine is ready to drop some Uncle Sam-sized bucks to acquire what's in briefcase number one. You get it for me, I'm a not only give you a cut, but I'll roll out my special stock as well. Now how that sound?"

"And you'll be giving me a discount in the future," Rhoslyn said nonchalantly. "That's generous of you."

"Yo, baby, why you gotta shake me down like that?! If I hadn't just got my foot out of a cast, I'd do it myself. If it's got to be that way, fine. You got a discount but only after I get the briefcase."

"Sounds like we have a deal," Rhoslyn said.

"Yeah," Fat Larry enthused. "That's what I like to hear. Now if you're the straight-out, hard-boiled, terminator-type, I'd suggest you buy some heavy firepower before you roll up to the parking garage. You need anything?"

"I might come back to buy some stuff when my discount's in effect," Rhoslyn said, smiling when Fat Larry grumbled at that. "Until then, I'll be seeing you."

She shook her head as she walked off. Another 'quest' to take care of but not right then. She needed to sort out business with the plaguebearers first. She remembered that Damsel had told her to question the bums if she needed information so she decided to do so. It took her a while but she finally found the person who could help her. Tin Can Bill. She found him in his alley, right where the other bum had told her he would be, standing next to a dumpster. The man looked positively frightful. His skin was grey, his eyes yellow and he looked to be in great pain.

"Who's there, huh?" he called. "Old Bill can't see too good these days. Is that you, Betty? I ain't got no booze tonight, so you may as well get the hell out of here."

"It's not Betty, Bill. I heard that you can tell me why everyone is getting sick," Rhoslyn said.

"Yeah…I might be able to," Bill said before coughing. "But I'm awful thirsty tonight, miss. Could you spare five bucks for a man who's been down on his luck?"

"Of course," Rhoslyn said, fishing out five dollars. "Here."

Bill took the five dollars, almost in disbelief, before cackling gleefully, breaking into a coughing fit before saying, "Thank you much." He coughed again. "I'm going to have to pick up some hootch." Once again he coughed. "For medicinal purposes, you know. Now I know you ain't going to believe old Bill, because I been tellin' all my friends and the cops and everyone since it happened, and people just say that it's the hooch talkin', and nothing more.."

"But it's not. It's okay, Bill," Rhoslyn soothed. "I'll believe you."

Bill seemed to think on it for a moment before he said, "It was a monster, y'see! A monster with his face all twisted and ugly, with teeth longer'n your finger. And these eyes…piss yellow and full'a hate…I-I never seen eyes like that before…still givin' me bad dreams."

"What happened?" Rhoslyn said gently.

"He grabbed me, threw me over his shoulder, took me to the bad place, the dark place. Oh God, the smell…worse than anything I've…and then he bit me…my neck…oh God, it was horrible. Don't remember too much after that…blacked out and woke up here in my alley. Haven't been feeling too well since then."

Bill broke into another coughing fit and Rhoslyn could see him fading, like Hannah had, and knew she couldn't do anything to help him. There was, however, one more thing she needed to know.

"Bill! I need to know where the monster took you," she said as gently as she could.

Bill coughed long and hard, before choking out, "Came up through the sewers, he did. Just around the corner there. Don't want to go back to the bad place, friend." The poor man clutched Rhoslyn's arm in desperation. "Don't let the monster come back and take me there…"

"Nobody's going to take you anywhere, Bill," she said firmly.

"Nobody?" he questioned in a small voice.

"Absolutely nobody," Rhoslyn assured him.

Rhoslyn could feel him becoming heavier and heavier as his body gave out and she gently lowered him to the ground. She held his hand as his eyes closed and he let out his last breath.

"Don't worry, Bill, someone's going to pay for this," she whispered.

She let go of his hand, placing it on his chest, before getting up and making her way to the manhole Bill had pointed out. Her face hardened as she imagined the terror Bill must have felt as something straight from a nightmare came bursting from the sewers. Whatever it had been, it would die.

* * *

The sewers in Los Angeles were like a maze with passages, pipes and grates criss-crossing eachother, making it all but impossible to find anything down there. Rhoslyn's advantage in this case was that there was a strong scent of disease hanging in the air and all she had to do was follow it.

Following it led her to a great hall, well… above a great hall. She took off her shoes before dropping down from the pipe she had crawled through, there was no point in breaking her heels after all. She put her shoes back on before slowly making her way to the platform, her eyes on the body nailed up above it.

As she approached the platform, a figure appeared out of nowhere, materializing right in front of her eyes. It was everything Bill had said and worse. She could smell the disease on him.

"Found your way down here, did you?" the figure burbled. "Following the smell of entrails and rotting flesh? Looking for a free meal, little bloodsucker? There's meat galore in my kingdom…"

"What is this madness?" Rhoslyn forced out. "Who are you?"

"Brother Kanker, they call me…high lord in the diseased halls of the dead. Look around you! The blood, the bloated bodies, the maggot-ridden mortal shells…these are the signs, the coming of a new age."

"All these things signify is your insanity," Rhoslyn spat, disgusted by the figure in front of her.

"The doors have been opened," Kanker raved on, seemingly not hearing her. "The seal's broken. And the final steps into the Abyss, the terrible mysteries of the Ninth Circle."

"Ninth Circle?" Rhoslyn questioned.

"Yes," the monstrous being grinned. "The Brotherhood of the Ninth Circle. The darkest dawn is almost upon us. Come! Join us in these last nights, spreading our disease upon the Earth, sharing this unholy communion with our human herd!"

"I won't join you, I'll kill you," Rhoslyn swore.

"Kill?" Kanker spat. "Foolish fledgling, you cannot kill me."

"We'll see about that," Rhoslyn spat back.

"Come then, sister! Join the disciples who have gathered here, floating in their own putrescence! I will show you the mysteries of our Brotherhood as I feed on you flesh."

"Just shut up and fight," Rhoslyn snapped before lunging at the hideous creature.

She had thought he was going to be a lot harder to beat than Jezebel Locke had been. She was right. Kanker, unlike Locke, was made of strong stuff, muscle all over and a lot of power. She wound up using her dominance discipline to bring him down to his knees long enough for her finish him, ripping a hole through his chest with several Brokk bullets.

When his body had disintegrated and most of Rhoslyn's wounds were knitting together, she noticed he had dropped a piece of paper. She picked it up and saw that it was a flyer with a symbol on it, a symbol she could have sworn she had seen before.

* * *

She looked down into the water, then at her bag. She had never tried it out but she didn't think her bag was waterproof, why would it be? If she jumped in her gun would get wet, not to mention her wallet. She opened her bag and emptied it, musing about what could get wet.

In the end she stuffed her gun and her wallet into the side pocket, putting her lockpick, the regent card and virgil crumb's license in the main bag. If they got wet, it would be okay.

When she emerged from the sewers, she was soaked to the skin but when she checked the inside of her bag, she saw that no water had actually gone into it, leaving everything dry. She frowned in disbelief, her bag was waterproof. She closed her bag again, resolving to dry off before touching anything.

She dried off and changed into her other outfit in the Last Round, relieved that she had decided not to put that on yet. She emerged feeling much better and after asking Damsel about the flyer, she was now pretty sure where she would find the symbol. As she remembered it, it was on a building near the Hallowbrook Hotel and Damsel had confirmed that it had to be around there.

Entering the building, she found she had to check in with a 'brother' before being allowed in.

"What's up, sister? You enlightened?" he asked.

Rhoslyn simply gave him the flyer.

"I see, welcome to the Brotherhood," the man said, before buzzing her in.

Rhoslyn walked in cautiously, making her way to the stairs to head up, when she saw a woman standing nearby.

"Hey…d-did you get s-summoned? You're going u-upstairs to see the Bishop?" the woman asked.

"Summoned?" Rhoslyn questioned.

"You're n-new to the Brotherhood, huh? Just got enlightened? I-I've been here a few d-days. When the Bishop wants to see you, y-you'll be summoned and then you go up these…um, these stairs…up to the… the temple."

Rhoslyn looked at the woman, seeing the decrepit state of her body after just a few days.

"I'm sure you'll be…summoned soon," was all she said.

"Y-yeah, I-I know the Bishop said we have to shed our um…our earthly f-fears on our j-journey to the… to the Ninth Circle…b-but I'm scared to go upstairs. I…I just want to go home…I wanna go home."

"Don't worry. You won't have to worry about the Bishop anymore."

Rhoslyn went up stairs, wondering just what she was going to find if the very members of the Brotherhood didn't even really want to be there. What she found was an old mansion like house, filled to the gills with zombie-like creatures. Weaving her way through disease and putrescence, fending off diseased summoned 'brothers' and 'sisters', she finally found herself standing in front of a pair of double doors, doors that led to the Bishop himself.

"Ah! Welcome, sister," the Bishop greeted. "I see that you have been enlightened. Are you searching for something? Do you seek the truth? You have come to the right place, sister. We've got more truth here than we can handle."

"Who are you?" she asked, keeping her eyes on the 'brothers' and 'sisters' in the room.

"They call me Bishop Vick, shepherd of the damned, your midnight guide through our last days here on Earth. Do you feel it, sister? The curtain being drawn back at last, drawn back by my hand, by the Brotherhood of the Ninth Circle."

"Are you the one who's been spreading all of this disease?" she asked.

"Disease?" he questioned. He coughed before scolding, "Sister, you've got to open you mind! One man's disease is another man's sanctity. Here among the Brotherhood of the Ninth Circle, we have shed these earthly labels! Come! Partake of our divine communion."

"You're insane," she spat. "You can't honestly believe that what you're doing is right."

Vick shook his head mournfully. "It would seem we will not agree on this, that the time for words is over. Alright then, my sister. You and I will take these last steps together and see what truth lies behind the curtain. Let the night fall forever on this cursed Earth, and let the fruits of my labor bring along a bloody harvest."

Rhoslyn said nothing, she just sprung to the side when Bishop Vick went for her. When she saw him bring out a shotgun, she quickly lunged for his throat, not wanting to get shot. Struggling with the Bishop was the stuff of nightmares. The smell of sickness wafted around her, his diseased face was close to hers, and several times she found herself looking into the barrel of the shotgun.

She finally managed to wrest the gun away from him and she immediately shot him in the stomach. She shot him over and over, in the head, in the chest and in the stomach, until finally, the Bishop disintegrated before her. It wasn't until she was outside that she realized she still had his shotgun. It still reeked of the place so she dumped it in the alley near the door.

She headed back to the Last Round to tell Damsel that the plaguebearer's were now all dead and was met with disbelief.

"_You_ killed all of them?" Damsel asked, her eyes narrowing. "You? Huh. So I guess you want me to thank you or something. Damn it. Thanks, okay? We're cool for now. Just don't go bragging to everyone about it."

"You're not so bad yourself, Damsel. Still a bitch, but in a good way."

"Righteous. You know, you just may have an anarch soul. I'll let you chew on that, Cammy. Some of the boys might have overheard our conversation and got the impression I've gone soft. Somebody in this joint got a lack of restraint to keep their mouth shut."

Rhoslyn nodded.

"Where you headed next?" Damsel asked.

"I've got some business here in L.A. for now but then it's back to Santa Monica," Rhoslyn sighed. "Something about a box on a boat."

"For LaCroix?" Damsel asked, an edge to her voice.

"I know what you're gonna say, okay? But I don't have a choice. If I could have things my way I wouldn't give him the time of day."

"Maybe this is a good thing," Damsel mused.

"Working for LaCroix is a good thing?" Rhoslyn asked in disbelief.

"Yeah, it could work for us," Damsel said. "You wanna help the Anarchs? Stay close to LaCroix. Smooch his ass, play ball. Keep an eye on him for us. You hear anything spicy, you come talk to me. Don't advertise – for all anyone in that tower'll know, you're still a worthless, bootlicking Cammy do-girl."

"Alright, I'll keep my mouth shut," Rhoslyn said. "I'll humor LaCroix, for now."

"Cool. With someone on the inside we should be able to eject his candyass a whole lot sooner. Keep us conscious, 'Cammy'."

"Will do," Rhoslyn assured, heading for the door.

Passing Fat Larry, she made her way into the parking garage. She spent more than a half hour creeping around and crawling through vents. She'd seen a lot of thugs walking around and it seemed they all had guns. She didn't fancy getting shot so she played it safe. She finally reached the briefcase and stole it from under their noses, making her way back out without being seen. She made her way back to Larry, who seemed pleased to see her.

"Babygirl," he enthused as she walked up.

She said nothing, merely held the briefcase out to him. Fat Larry laughed in delight, taking the offered briefcase and surveyed what was inside with his back to her.

"Yeah, that's beautiful," he said. "Everything looks in order. Somebody somewhere got to be pissed off 'bout losing this. Too bad I sent my main girl here after 'em. Alright – let me peel off a few bills for ya."

He peeled off five one hundred dollar bills and gave them to Rhoslyn.

"I'll just drop this off to the new owner in the morning. Then I'm going to get me a big old steak. Not that domestic stuff neither. I'm gonna order up 32 ounces of Kobe beef – the expensive shit. How about I buy you a steak tomorrow?"

Rhoslyn chuckled. "You're a charmer, Larry, but no thanks. I'm not much of a meat-eater."

"Yeah, that's probably why you so small," Larry said, looking her over.

Rhoslyn chuckled again. "I guess." Before she left, she kissed his cheek, unable to help herself.

"Ah, girl. You gonna make a brother blush doing that," Larry said, though the grin on his face was anything but bashful. "Say, my girl down at Confession, name's Venus Dare. She's asking around for someone with skills to – well, I'll let her tell you. I'll give her a call, recommend you, if you're interested."

"Sure, I'll see about going to see her later," Rhoslyn nodded, giving him one last smile.

Before parting ways with Larry, she sold the bat, car stereo and knife she had picked up in the parking garage and bought enough bullets to last her a lifetime. As expensive as the bullets were, she still had more than a thousand dollars when she walked away from Larry and back to the cab, so she wasn't worried about money.

_'Let's see what the fuss about the Ankaran Sarcophagus is,' _she thought as she climbed into the cab.

A/N: Just in case anybody is wondering: No, Rhoslyn didn't take the five bucks she gave Tin Can Bill back. Why not? Because that would just be wrong.


End file.
